Made of Scars
by Angelic Hellraiser
Summary: It is here that the mother of abomination seeks out the place of destruction. It is here that man shall weep for their ignorance and disregard. In the bruising dawn shall they see the Hellish angel of rot that has come to raze them to ash.
1. Incubus of Viral Darkness

**Made of Scars**

**Chapter o1: Incubus of Viral Darkness **

**_(Jin's POV)_**

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_This fluid feels like pain  
This stoic mood is all in vain  
I reach into the dark  
I tear the sun and me apart  
How many years ago  
How many deaths I can't let go  
My flesh is temporary, my God extraordinary_

Cardiff - Stone Sour

-

Screams tore at my ears, gnashing like infectious beasts of some forsaken evil. My veins burned with the molten liquid: my pain. As if fire fanned by the sweet breaths of night, ebbing and flowing, it grew. I ran, my legs pumping and my heart accelerating.

I wanted to get away, anywhere. Here was just too agonizing. Her face materialized through the breaking treetops and I stumbled, my hand reaching for her. She looked so sad. I bit back tears and forced my feet to go faster. Her almond-shaped eyes reflected my image, a hazy shadow amid the dazzling brown. Something warm trickled down my chin and I knew it to be blood, my blood, cursed blood. I dug my canines deeper into the tender flesh of my lip.

A sinister cackle assaulted my ears and I snarled. It was the creature, the effect of all this madness. It slithered through my plagued blood and exited out my nostrils in a dense, slate-colored smoke. Milky irises swathed around scorching red and black pupils beckoned my surrender. The depraved leer of the jagged mouth glimmered in the slivers of moonlight that filtered through the trees.

I kept running, not sparing another glance at the shadow. My mother's face frowned at me, her lower lip puckering somberly. I tried to extend my hand further, my fingertips tingling. She just seemed to slip farther away. A mournful shout ascended from my throat and I let the tears roam freely, now, seeping down my cheeks.

The creature screeched with insane laughter, taunting me, and I lashed out. My fists assailed the writhing smoke, but it did no harm.

"You're damned boy."

I growled. "Go back to Hell."

"I like it rather much, here." Its raspy voice hissed. "Besides, you know whose fault your mother's death was."

My heart twisted. "Toshin destroyed her."

"Did he now?"

"Yes."

The shadow swirled around me and I came to realize I'd stopped moving. "Maybe, you're right," it purred, "though I think the villain is somewhat closer to home."

At those last words, my breath hitched.

"Wouldn't you agree, boy?" It continued. "I mean- if you'd never been born, she wouldn't have tried to protect you and could've escaped."

My insides felt like mush and my skull throbbed. "No…"

"She would have lived… but you changed all that."

Icy talons sank into my back and summoned the gigantic ebony wings buried there. They burst through the skin, sending deep red liquid in all directions. The subsequent sting shivered across my nerves and I restrained a cry of pain.

"Running away, boy?"

Ignoring that scratchy tenor, I took to the sky.

"You can run, but you can't hide." It guffawed. "I'm forever your shadow, your incubus of viral darkness."

ooo

I awoke with a start, a sheen layer of cold sweat plastered to my skin. My bones ached and the inside of my mouth tasted of a sticky unpleasant tang. Rolling to my side, I gazed at the glowing red numbers of the alarm clock- 3:00A.M. To some cultures, this was known as the Witching Hour. I had to agree with them.

Stretching and rising from the damp sheets, I left the master bedroom and descended the extravagant staircase. The foyer was empty other than the few guards standing watch. I greeted them with a curt nod and continued on past the main entrance to a door on the far right. It led to a vibrant garden I'd had connected to the maze on the farthest edge of the estate.

The velvety night sky glimmered with the many shards of winking stars. The hue of bruised indigo and streaks of cloudy amethysts intensified the dying radiance of the maiden moon. She held a ghostly hint of pink, though it was fast turning blood red. I peered up at her with a faint scowl.

What if the fiend was right? What if I hadn't been conceived? Would she have survived?

My hand caressed the nightshade growing up the side of the mansion, its violet petals seeming to shy away from my touch. In the fountain adjacent to them, I saw my reflection. The muscles in my bare chest were taut and my complexion appeared sallow. I winced as I caught sight of the branded black skin on my left shoulder. It danced with unholy shadows.

Then, my ears perked as I heard the distant sound of a voice. It was singing softly. I took off, bounding down the path and leaping over the clusters of flowers. If my ears had not been mistaken, it was coming from the labyrinth.

Not caring if I got lost, I plunged into the emerald gloom. Pushing stray branches aside and racing past or through sharp corners, I came to an open area with another fountain, this one more excessive than the last. The water trickled over the four layers of beautifully designed limestone and pooled in a silvery base stocked with goldfish. At the crown was a tiny statue of a dove: my mother.

The singing faded and a hazy figure stepped out from behind the fountain. From what I could tell, her hair was the tint of mahogany and her creamy complexion seemed to glow. She possessed iridescent grey eyes; they were reminiscent of two alluring moons.

I tried to breathe, but my lungs were too paralyzed to function. With my lips parted slightly and my eyes as large as saucers, I'm sure I looked quite ridiculous.

She stood very still, her eyes trained on mine. Above her right eyebrow I thought I saw a birthmark shaped like a crescent moon, but quickly dismissed the notion when I looked again and saw nothing but perfect pale skin.

Who was this lovely phantom?

Then, she vanished. I blinked, finally able to gulp down a much needed gust of air. Was she real? I pinched the bridge of my nose between my index finger and thumb, trying to stem the sudden headache.

The faint scent of oranges and strawberries teased my nostrils. It was a strange combination, though it somehow worked. I inhaled the fragrance hungrily; delighted to smell something other than sulfur, smoke, and ash.

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**A/N:** I had this birthing in my brain and I had to get it out. Don't worry. I am working on my other fanfics. If you'd like to read the prologue to this, visit _40 Miles from the Sun_ on my page. It's short, but it ties into this story, nonetheless. If you review, it'd be superfly and I'd love you to no end. Seriously!

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything. The title is of a Stone Sour song.


	2. Wraithlike Wonderland

**Made of Scars**

**Chapter o2: Wraithlike Wonderland**

**(Gracie's POV)**

-

_There is a weight  
Within me_

_(And I burn)_

_A kiss  
Heavier than the sun_

_(And I burn)_

And I Burn - Otep

-

The early morning rays gleamed off the polished steel of the Harley Davidson Roadster in my step-father's driveway. I smiled slightly, awed by the sleek beauty of the well-built machine. It was an XL 1200R Sportster model, which had come out two years back, and the candy apple red paint didn't harbor one scratch. I rarely drove it due to my step-father's fear for my wellbeing. He was overacting, of course. I was a big girl and very proficient in taking care of myself.

"Gracie?"

I glanced over my shoulder and a sharp pain shot through my back. It crawled along my spine until reaching my shoulder blades, and then rushed to the tips of the nerve endings in my arms. I winced, suppressing a strangled yelp.

Filching a breath of air, I tried to keep my voice steady. "What is it, dad?" It weakened a bit.

"Is everything alright, sweetheart?" He asked, stepping out of the house and walking up beside me.

"Everything's fine."

He wasn't convinced. "Was it the dreams again?"

I sighed, picking at the flaking paint of the porch railing. "I'm grown up now, daddy. I don't have bad dreams anymore."

He knew I wasn't a very good liar. "You can talk to me about them if you want?"

I shook my head. "Nah, that's okay. I think I'm going to take a ride, clear my head."

"Honey-"

"Come on, Thomas," I groaned, "I've been riding bikes since before my mother passed away. You know that."

I only used his name when I felt he was being unreasonable. It worked.

"I may not be your father, but I still love you as if you were my own daughter." He caressed my cheek where a crescent birthmark dripped from the rim of my eye. "Please, be careful."

I kissed his cheek. "I will."

He chuckled. "Remember to wear-"

"-a helmet," I huffed. "I know. Even if I crash and burn, everything's great as long as my head looks pretty."

"Don't joke." He scolded.

I rolled my eyes and went into the house, hurried up the stairs, and into my room. The sun glared from my bedroom window, an orange ball of brilliant fire.

Rummaging through my closet, I came out with a battered black helmet. I'd bought it when Thomas purchased a little dirt bike for me to practice on. It'd taken the entire savings in my piggy bank. Circling around from the back, a majestic, white wolf, frozen in motion, hastened to greet the full yellow moon near the visor. Its fluid body seemed as smoke.

I skimmed my fingers over the beaten plastic and smiled at remembering all the times I'd suffered an accident for my recklessness. I'm sure Thomas had plenty of close calls because of his high cholesterol.

Pushing the thought to the back of my mind, I showered, dressed, and headed out to my baby. She purred throatily as I slipped the keys in the ignition and brought her to life. Thomas was still on the porch, watching me with a cup of coffee in his hand. He waved as I walked the motorcycle out of the driveway and sped off, screeching rubber against asphalt. That was sure to annoy him; I grinned.

The wind skated off my skin and tore at my T-shirt. In this place, so far away from shadow, I was free. Whizzing past vehicles, some honking, some shouting, I laughed merrily. A few angry drivers, irritated that I'd cut them off, flipped me the bird. I returned the favor and accelerated.

It'd taken me some time to learn how to handle this monster. She weighed a good 1200 pounds and I needed every bit of my balance and strength to keep her in check.

Hopefully, Jasmine was already up. If she wasn't, she'd be getting a rude awakening. The thought of hitting her over the head with a pillow sounded really tempting at the moment. I slowed my speed as I spotted a cop just over the hill. He didn't catch me. I breathed a sigh of relief. I'd racked up too many speeding tickets to go back home today and give Thomas another.

He was the only father figure I ever knew, the only parental figure I ever had. He meant the world to me. From a very young age, he'd taught me his skill: mixed martial arts. He always said that one day it would save my life. Sometimes he said it with such fervor that it bothered me.

Fire suddenly ripped through my flesh as the familiar agony slinked between my shoulders. It howled, bucked, and slashed, injecting hot jolts of acidic pain within my veins. I inhaled a ragged breath and put all my might into controlling the motorcycle. It shuddered beneath me, zigzagging dangerously.

I wailed as the familiar talons struck again, attempting to force my ribs outward. My heart beat erratically and my skin felt icy. Colors circled my vision and I quickly turned off on a side road. Upon bringing my baby to a stop, I sensed my muscles giving way and I stumbled, overpowered by the weight of the bike. It crashed to the ground with a sickening clank and I barely missed having myself pinned under it.

The coppery taste of blood tainted my tongue and the talons cuddle my heart, squeezing it. I was sickened by the flavor in my mouth, but I couldn't manage my bodily functions. I swallowed thickly on impulse and my body quivered wildly. Collapsing on the street, I released a bloodcurdling scream and lost consciousness.

ooo

I awoke in a world of utter chaos. Thunder growled from the darkest corners of Hell and sickly sweet creatures of some demonic lineage danced before me. They lingered in the shadows, kissing the blackness with vulgar, relentless passion. I wanted to vomit.

Then, I saw him, a smeared blotch of beleaguered light in the gloom. My heart sang and I rose shakily to my feet. His expression was torn with misery and hate. Blemishes of past sins littered his beautiful face, wriggling and twisting their way along the smooth, angular contours. His eyes, though closed, gave the impression to be the only soft feature he possessed.

I cried out to him. Who was he? At the moment, I cared not, for he was here in the darkness with me. He was suffering alongside me. He may not have been real, but that didn't trouble me. For now, he was real.

The demonic fiends restrained my arms as I tried to make my way to him. I snarled at them, wrestling against their steel grip. They yowled with a wraithlike mirth. I clamped my eyes shut and tried to pull away from the awful, screeching noise. It reverberated across the stygian umbra, an echoing sonata of dissonance.

I shouted to him again, yet he remained lifeless. Tears dirtied my cheeks with their saline impurities and the crescent birthmark near my eye ignited with a blistering ache. The monsters began to kiss it with wormy lips, letting raven drool contaminate my face. I swallowed back vomit and thrashed in their clutches. Their diseased talons pierced my flesh and I moaned in anguish.

Confessions of long forsaken sins ricocheted within my skull, pounded viciously against the yielding tissue and bone. These sins were nameless to me, bizarre and terrifying, spoken by hurried, unhinged voices, tangled. I succumbed to pain and freed my frail quarrel of not acquiescing to their beckoning arms. Sinking into their warped embraces, I choked on my sobs.

He was still there; I could see him through the translucent silhouette of their capes. I wept harder as I fathomed that his eyes were still closed and the blackness had, now, utterly engulfed him. The light dimmed significantly and I shrieked in vain for him to stay.

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**A/N:** Gracie's dream scene was so much fun to write. I hope you enjoyed it. I'm bad at grammar and I sincerely apologize. Oh, and I just watched the Tekken anime. It was very depressing. I wasn't expecting much, but... seriously!

**Disclaimer:** I don't own any Tekken characters. The only things I own are Gracie, Thomas, and Jasmine.


	3. And the Chaos Ensues

Just in case there is any confusion...

Italicized means that Jin's soul is speaking. He has no control over his physical body unless said otherwise in the story. Trust me, I'll let you know.

Written in quotations means the demon is using Jin's body to speak.

Italicized and bolded means the demon is speaking within his mind.

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**Made of Scars**

**Chapter o3: And the Chaos Ensues**

**(Jin's POV)**

My mirror image sneered back at me, a wan, perverse joker. The demon had taken total control after the fifth Iron Fist tournament, and it rarely allowed me to govern my own flesh. Sighing softly- a mental whisper amid the assortment of jagged glass in my brain- I watched as the creature played puppeteer.

It summoned my hand to curl around a neighboring knife and drag it down my cheek. My soul cringed at the initial sting and I hissed as a foreign laugher exited my body's lips. The blood oozed down the corner of my nose, leaked off my chin, and tainted the bathroom tile. Then, the maroon liquid slithered upward as if being sucked back into the lesion. Slowly, the offended tissue healed, zipping together like there'd been no wound to begin with.

A knock sounded at the bedroom door. Upon answering it, I could see the fright in the guard's eyes as he soaked up my face's leering appearance.

"Sir," he saluted; his tone wavered.

"On with it," my voice snarled. It sounded so alien.

"Your troops are prepared, sir, and awaiting your first target."

I would have given anything to have gained control of my vocal chords at that moment… though the intended location was declared smoothly. "Madrid… Spain."

Before the soldier could reply he had the door slammed in his face. My body paced beneath me as I floated in darkness, beaten. After gaining the fiendish power from my great grandfather, Jinpachi, I'd felt two entities pulsing within me now. This new shadow always kept silent, though. It let the familiar shade under my skin uphold the rule over me.

Millions of lives were about to parish, and it was because of my weakness. It was because I'd given in, I'd given up.

_Mother, I've failed you…_

"You've done a lot more than that, my boy."

_Let me be!_

"You can't escape me. I own you. Your soul is mine… I think I'll turn it into dogshit when we've completed our task."

_Since when did it become plural?_

"You know perfectly well when."

I regressed into the pit of blackness with only my thoughts and memories. The creature kept trying to provoke me, but I disregarded its foul taunts. Here, in this lonely place, I was a prisoner in every sense of the word.

At night, girls with stranger's faces slinked into the mansion and into my arms to be carried off to the master bedroom. There, I had to watch as the monster preformed immoral acts of deranged lust I never knew existed. With my mouth, my teeth it bites into their flesh, tasting their essence. Sadly, the girls are so inebriated that they never remember what happened.

"Your mother's a whore, you know?"

That insult hit home.

_You have no right to speak of my mother. She is above you!_

"So many lives swallowed by death." It chuckled. "Who could be to blame? Your grandfather? Your father? You?

An image of the anonymous girl suddenly materialized in the inkiness ahead of me and I studied her. Where had she come from? Despite her cat-shaped, silver eyes and blushing full lips, the other features on her face were fairly average. Her nose was a tad big and a significant amount of freckles blanketed her high cheeks. She did have an elegant jaw line and neck, though the swoop of her collar bone was a little too rectangular. Creamy ivory was the hue of her complexion and one could easily spot the veins under her skin. She looked frail almost.

"She's fuckable…" the fiend remarked. "Is she an imaginary friend of yours?"

_Go to Hell…_

"Oh, don't worry. I plan to make this place Hell, my boy."

_Why?_

"An age old question…" It paused, "You bumbling cows amuse me. All you know how to do is destroy, not only each other, but everything around you. Over petty things (religion, politics, greed), you fight gory civil wars. Your breed falls so effortlessly into our hands… like easy putty. We tear you apart. We fuse you together, and we force the lies into your eager, yawning mouths. From the very beginning, we've nurtured your abhorrence."

_Monster…_

"And your species is blameless? You willingly rape, murder, abandon, use, and ignore."

An iciness settled around my heart, coiling and deforming it, and I surrendered to utter silence. What could I say to the creature's truth?

"It's our time. You've ignorantly paved the way for our arrival."

_You won't win._

"A fool's hope. You know better," it chuckled. "You and the rest of your idiotic herd cannot escape their fate… the fate which you all have weaved so expertly into actuality."

My soul wept hollow dry tears and I curled within my inner conscious. The creature was right. From the birth of time, they'd been prepping us for this, deceiving us with pretty fantasies, toying with our innate arrogance as human beings. We'd been doomed from the start. It was all so depressing. I couldn't let it end like this. I couldn't let the efforts like that of my mother's amount to nothing. It had to mean something.

"You're invisible, boy, dead to the world, and through you I shall bring forth anarchy."

I felt so alone. All I had were these hellish fiends to keep me company. I deserved it, though. I'd fallen short. I would bring forth the end of the world with my failure.

_Mother… I want to come home…_

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**A/N:** This chapter is dedicated to you, Razer Athane. Fo reals! :D (waves) Haha! I hope you liked it! I know it was a bit short. D:

Trust me, the chapters will get more lengthy. These beginning ones are just setting the mood. In this chapter you see a lot of what I believe the human race is. It was rather enjoyable to portray my views through the demonic creature.

Okie, because I do my best to be original, you guys can point out anything that's cliche. It annoys me to no end when I find myself coughing up that crap. One needs to put forth a little effort and be original, wouldn't you agree? Also, let me know if I'm being too descriptive. That is another curse of mine. I get so into detail and I don't realize that I'm not letting you create the images for yourself.

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing, except Gracie, etc. etc. You know the drill.


	4. Waking From Wonderland

**Made of Scars**

**Chapter o4: Waking From Wonderland**

**(Gracie's POV)**

Bright lights invaded my vision as I came to. Where was I? My eyes blinked foggily and I looked around. It smelled very sterile... like a hospital. Panic gripped me and I moaned, trying to form words. Then, I felt a warm hand caressing my cheek.

"It's alright, sweetie." Thomas' voice soothed. "You're in the hospital. Someone found you unconscious on a side road. You couldn't be roused, so you were brought here. It's been over a week."

It'd been over a week? I squinted, trying to discern the elements of the room, though it all blurred together. My throat felt sticky and dry, and my muscles ached. I tried to turn my head toward my father's voice and a searing hot pain erupted through my spine. It felt like talons drawing my skeletal frame from the sack of flesh encasing it. It was an outer body sensation.

Thomas kissed my forehead. "Lay still, baby."

Why did it feel like something was trying to tear my soul from out my body? Or was it trying to tear its way in? I forced the thought away and used my hands to discover what state I was actually in. As my fingers skimmed along the hospice blanket, I could feel the dead crust of a wound catching on the rough fibers from my left wrist. My right shoulder was especially rigid and long incisions crawled up my arms.

Where did I get those? I frowned and clamped my eyes shut, trying to squeeze some moisture into them.

"My… my bike?" I coughed.

Thomas laughed. "Your baby's fine. She just acquired a few scratches from the fall. It's not biggie."

"Gracie?" A feminine voice exhaled. "Jesus, I was so worried about you. Are you okay?"

I grinned weakly at the sound of Jasmine's delicate tenor. "I'm fine. How long have you been here?"

"Three days," she answered, coming to stand beside me. "They were able to kick me out the first time, but, when I came back, I told them they have to drag me away in a body bag before I left you."

I laughed hoarsely, ignoring the sudden pain in my limbs. "A body bag, huh?"

"That's right." She sang.

My vision was finally beginning to clear. I could make out a square black box that hung from the ceiling: the television. Thomas looked like he hadn't brushed his hair in a few days. It stuck out in all odd directions, a sand-colored mess. Jasmine was wearing the shirt I'd left at her house a few weeks back. I'd have to get it back soon. I really liked that shirt.

"Why was I out? What happened?"

Thomas leaned forward in his seat, seizing my hands. "They say you went into a coma, though they're not sure why. You weren't expected to come out of it."

My veins iced over.

"How?" My lips formed the word, but it never left my throat.

"They can't understand how you obtained the cuts on your arms, or the severe bruises on your back and neck." Jasmine whispered.

I found it hard to breath and the monitor alerted everyone that my pulse had increased ten-fold. It was a maddening noise. I wrestled to sit up, but Thomas and Jasmine told me to stay still. My mind raced so rapidly that it soon turned to mush. What was going on with me? I hadn't black out like this since I was thirteen.

"You need to stay calm." Jasmine murmured.

"Daddy?" I whimpered, a memorable fear inhabiting my chest.

He squeezed my hands. "Stay calm, baby, so we can hurry up and get you home."

The urgency in his voice startled me. He sounded afraid. "What's the rush?"

Jasmine lifted a stray wisp of hair away from my face. "The world's gone to Hell fast, Grace. Since you've been asleep, war has broken out in Europe and Asia."

"What?" I stuttered.

"It's spreading rapidly," Jasmine continued, "Soon, it will flood the borders here."

"The president isn't doing a thing. He's trying to negotiate." Thomas cut in, a feral animosity in his voice.

"You thought he truly was going to do something, dad?" I hissed sarcastically.

"I was hoping." Thomas said, pursing his lips.

"The American people are fools. You know this." I deadpanned.

"They're more than fools." Thomas muttered.

"They're sanctimonious, brain-dead annoying fools." Jasmine fumed quietly.

"It's funny, hearing this from fellow Americans." I grinned.

"This is serious." Thomas reproached.

We fell silent as loud, clacking footsteps halted at the door. I relaxed into the pillow and feinted watching the droning idiot box. Jasmine followed suit and Thomas sat with his head lulling and his eyes closed.

In stepped a willowy nurse, her nervous, darting eyes a diluted blue. She checked the beeping and humming machines, and then the clipboard at the edge of my bed. Out of my peripheral vision, I noticed her hands trembled. Jasmine noticed it, too.

She hugged the clipboard to her chest. "You're awake?"

I turned to her and nodded.

"How are you feeling?" she asked, jotting something down.

"I'm great actually." I lied.

"You are anemic." She said, looking over the paperwork. "The wounds on your arms will take a bit more time to heal. Do you know how you got them?"

I frowned. "All I remember was collapsing. Then, I woke up and I was here."

She bit her lip. "I'm not sure if you need to leave just yet. Let me check in with Dr. Moody and get back to you."

Once she left, I gave Jasmine a wary look. She pointed to the television just in time for me to see footage of a burning church. A Spanish man was rummaging frantically through the rubble, a stricken expression painting his face.

"Spain?" I gasped.

"Madrid… That was last week." Thomas groaned.

"What's this week?" I inquired timidly.

Jasmine sighed heavily, appearing older than nineteen: "London, Moscow, Paris, Berlin, and Baghdad."

My jaw drooped open stupidly. "In one week?"

"More or less…" Thomas spoke softly.

I was speechless.

"They'll hit us soon." Jasmine said blankly.

"Who's the culprit?" I grunted, while compelling myself to sit up.

Jasmine gave me a disapproving look, but responded. "The entity is recognized as the Mishima Financial Corporation, or also known as M.F.C."

Thomas sat on the bed beside me, pulling me into his chest so I wouldn't have to strain my back. I rested my head on his shoulder and he began stroking my hair.

"Jin Kazama is the head of the conglomerate."

I craned my head around to stare at Thomas. His eyes seemed distant somehow. Was he hiding something? I detected a weight in his tone when he'd pronounced the name. Thomas never hid things from me.

Jasmine fiddled with her peace sign choker. "Hopefully, you can get out of here today, or tomorrow."

"I can get her out of here today." Thomas said confidently.

"Being a certified doctor has a lot of pull, huh?" Jasmine teased.

"You have no idea." I grinned.

--

A few hours later, I was in the back seat with Jasmine while Thomas drove us home. Our home was pretty much Jasmine's, as well. She lived with an alcoholic aunt who would rather beat her than look at her. I envied how Jasmine could be so compassionate and forgiving despite the fact that her family embodied the word 'trash'.

"What were you dreaming about?" Jasmine murmured in my ear.

I raised an eyebrow. "Why?"

"You were moaning in your sleep. Was it a nightmare?"

I nibbled on my lip. "What did I say?"

She scrutinized me before answering. "You were begging someone not to leave you. You begged them to stay."

I gazed up at Thomas. If he was paying attention, he surely hid it well.

Swallowing a lump in my throat, I spoke carefully. "I'm having those fever dreams again. They… I've never had them this bad before."

"I thought they'd stopped around your thirteenth birthday."

"They did, but they've started up again."

Jasmine pondered for a moment; then, she tilted her head to the side. "Do you think it has anything to do with what's going on, right now?"

"I don't know." I admitted. "One thing I do know is that you are staying with us for a while."

She smiled. "I will have to check in on my Aunt Carmen from time to time."

"Fuck that selfish, hateful drunk." I spat.

"Gracie!" Thomas barked from up front. "Watch that tongue. You know how I feel about the colorful metaphors."

I rolled my eyes. "Yes sir."

"I know she's not the best person on the planet-"

"Try the worst." I threw in.

She continued without pause. "But she's my family and she's a human being. I have to take care of her."

"Yeah, you have to clean the vomit off her floor and her person while she screams obscenities at you." I seethed.

Jasmine just shrugged and Thomas presented me a stern look that reflected off the rearview mirror. I inclined into the seat and started picking at the scabs on my left arm. Jasmine snatched my wrist and shook her head. She hated that particular habit of mine.

"Is she picking at her scabs?" Thomas asked.

Jasmine blushed and nodded. She didn't want to get me in trouble, but, at the same time, she didn't want to lie, either.

"Gracie, stop that. You're anemic. That means that your blood doesn't coagulate. It was hard enough getting those wounds to clot." He said austerely.

I nodded obediently and blew out a puff of air at the unbridled strands of hair that swayed before my face. I hated it when he spoke to me as if I was some five-year-old child, yet I was acting exactly as that. I knew I was in the wrong. Sometimes, I acted like an ass just because I could. That was one thing I hated most of all.

Jasmine wouldn't look at me. I nudged her and she worried her lip between her teeth. She was ashamed that she'd gotten me in trouble.

"Jazz," I chuckled. "Don't worry about it. I was in the wrong."

She merely sighed.

I cautiously extended my arm and wrapped it around her shoulder. "It's not a big deal, Jazz."

Smiling faintly, she stared at me. "I know…"

"We've got bigger fish to fry." I declared, gazing out the window anxiously.

Finally, the world, weighted down by the burdens of Man, was tumbling into oblivion. I hugged Jasmine closer to me. I'd protect my family, even if it cost me my life.

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**A/N:** I'm listening to my dad tear into a Direct TV representative. Man, he knows how to belittle someone. Go daddy! Haha (cough) The representatives are major, snooty assholes.

Anyway, onto the chapter. This one was a bit longer. I hope you enjoyed it. I'm not going to suddenly write a chapter that's 3000 words long. I think that actually turns the reader away... Every chapter will have a little more... and a little more... and a little more. I want to gradually work it up. Thanks to **spongecake 2** and **Razer Athane** who've reviewed. You guys are delicious, haha.

**Disclaimer:** I own Gracie, Jasmine, and Thomas... and the insignificant nurse and Dr. Moody, whom you never meet... how sad... :(


	5. Afraid

**Chapter o5: Afraid**

**(Jin's POV)**

Flurries of snow drifted along the harsh gusts of wind and the padding of soldier's feet echoed in my ears. The world was falling apart at the seams with the next target being Washington, D.C.

Nations at each other's throats, disorder, and hate: this was what the human race embodied. The downtrodden lover of globalization: collapse. Everything had a natural pinnacle and a following regression.

The muted rays of the sun glinted off the black armor of the troops as they stood, erect and terrified of their leader. My feet strolled up to the podium with the black, snakeskin trench coat fluttering out behind me. I felt their heart rates swell as my body turned around, slowly.

Being trapped in a room full of mirrors and windows could drive a man insane. I'm sure I far exceeded lunacy at the moment. To have the one thing that is truly yours stripped away from you; to be chewed, digested, and shit out onto a plate just to relive it again. You simply wished you could fade to nothing, but you couldn't unfortunately.

I dwelled with my thoughts as the creature ripped my hand to my temple, saluting the wave of oblivion that was about to smash into several million credulous people. Sound rapidly faded along with the scents of frozen moisture and rigid metal. In their place, the perfumes of wood, greenery, and fresh water reigned. A familiar hum captured my attention and my gut twisted on impulse.

Soft light poured in through the darkness and highlighted the emptiness of my mind. Behind me, I heard the rustling whisper of a dress. The humming grew louder and I winced as I felt gentle fingers brush my neck. Her unforgettable fragrance of sweet flowers and warm wood made my heart flutter with erratic palpitations.

Mother.

She stepped before me, her lustrous raven hair free of the infamous headbands she generally wore and her feet bare. The simple white dress she wore shimmered even in this murkiness and I reached out, memorized.

Then, something caught my eye, a long elapsed memory. A pregnant woman, whom I knew not, lay sleeping in a little cot, my cot, as my mother leaned over her. The woman's face was pale and gaunt. She appeared almost starved with her frail arms and round belly shivering at every labored breath she took. Her mahogany hair spilled over the pillow and her lips muttered an illogical string of words.

I crawled up to the bed and noticed my mother's expression. She appeared perturbed. Glancing back at the woman, I found her watery eyes open. They reflected like two round prisms of glinting obsidian. Within their oceanic depths, dwelled flecks of puzzling grey.

I frowned. This grey was less pronounced, but I couldn't deny the resemblance.

Her. Was she real? How could I have neglected that memory? I'd been three years old at the time. I didn't recall much, but I did remember the woman. My mother had insisted that I sing to the little life in her tummy. Was that the girl? My heart jumped at the thought.

**_Reliving old times?_**

The vision evaporated and I groaned. _What do you want?_

**_I'm feeling lonely._**

_Piss off._

**_Be careful. I could strike down those dearest to you. You would watch as I bathed in their blood, soaking your skin with their gore._**

I was silent.

**_That's better._**

Present sound raided my ears and I absorbed the rippling growl of an approaching helicopter. It landed on the heliport with some difficulty owing to the wind speed and a soldier hopped out, hurrying toward me.

He halted before me, snapping his hand in salute. "Sir!"

My head gave a terse nod.

"Our air forces are twenty minutes away."

I felt the creatures' excitement escalate. "Perfect."

They coiled and stretched with their shadowy talons raking along my insides. It was an eerily disgusting sensation. I felt the second entity hiss and bend for the first time. It'd been dormant for so many months. My muscles quivered in response. I could hear my father's remote heart beat and I could taste the creature inhabiting his veins, hungry, mutinous.

Inside the whirlybird, the harshness of the cold was a little less biting and a notorious blonde sat waiting for me. Her glacial blue eyes attempted to score me with their serrated edge and the creature laughed. Her poise faltered.

"Ms. Williams?"

She crossed her legs, trying to veil her fear with the action, and dipped her head in acknowledgement. "Kazama…"

"How's your sister?" I took the seat opposite her.

"Assisting your father," she answered, not missing a beat.

"That's a shame." My voice purred as the chopper began its ascent.

"Not really…" Nina gazed at the troops below.

"Are you just so eager to take her life?"

Nina's hands balled into fists, but she didn't answer.

The creature grinned.

Nina saw the feral sneer and averted her eyes to the pilot.

"What else have you found out about my father?"

She looked back. "He's placed a bounty on your head."

"It looks like we're going to have to move things ahead of schedule."

Nina checked her magnum and looked out to infinite whiteness. She held her fur coat tightly against her sleek form, grappling with the raging wind. I'd always found her to be a strong woman, though there was so much hate in her heart, so much pain. A beautiful woman, she was without a doubt. Her golden bangs flittered, sweeping across her smooth though angular cheeks.

I could smell her fear of me. The creature could, too. It inhaled the melliferous aroma with a lustful shudder and I recoiled from its sudden longing. The revolting titillation saturated me and I found myself wanting to rip into her throat, licking up that innate dread.

**_Tempting, is it not?_**

_Damn you._

**_She'd be a wonderful addition to our collection… like your mother._**

_Fuck you!_ I growled.

**_Such anger… Delicious…_**

**_-_**

The colossal TV in the Mishima mansion blared with the current news: aircraft just bombed the White House. Clips of it lying in shambles overran the monitor. Then, a picture of me floated into view. My expression was cold, so unlike me, so like my father.

How could my mother have fallen for such a despicable creature? I wouldn't believe that she loved complete evil. There had to have been good in him at one time. It didn't matter now.

My hand scribbled down a list of names, some familiar, some new, on a blank sheet of paper. Some fighters would be coming on their own accord. They wouldn't need a pretty little invitation considering they already sought retribution against me. For some reason, Asuka Kazama's name was written with some difficulty. Both the creatures released a mute hiss.

They feared her.

**_Mind your thoughts, boy._**

_She's your weakness._

**A petty human, our weakness?**

_She's no petty human, and neither was my mother. You fear Asuka._

The creatures didn't retort. Instead a guard was waved over and handed the stack of invitations to the Sixth Iron Fist Tournament.

_You're afraid._

Both fiends snarled nastily and I found myself exiting the room. Down the stairs and to the door leading to my garden, I walked. The dying sun hid behind a cluster of thick cumulonimbus clouds. Passed the flowers, beginning to wither against the cold, and to the labyrinth, I continued. What were they doing?

My body finally paused in front of the charming fountain where I'd seen the vision of the unknown girl. The dove's opal silhouette shined in the fading rays of light and my soul smiles. Then, with a snapping kick, the figurine crashed to the ground, shattering into a million tiny pieces. The demons cackled maliciously.

"We told you to mind your thoughts..."

I howled in misery. The yearning for freedom burned my insides like a white hot light. My heart disintegrated as they used my foot to crush the remainder of the statue into dust. Mother.

_I've failed you for so long… no more._

**_You think you can defeat us? You think you can destroy us._** They hissed with laughter.

_I don't think. I know._

Their laughter paused and a pressure settled in my chest. _**You think you know something of Hell, boy? You're still attached to your skin. A soul still connected to their flesh can only stand so much pain.**_

_I think I've suffered a fair amount. What could a little more hurt?_

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**A/N:** Sorry for this chapter being short. :( It's very difficult to write Jin's point of view in his current situation. Once I get the hang of it, I promise I'll write more. I also didn't know what to name this chapter... I just put something up there. If you have any ideas, I'm open to them. Also, if you don't like this chapter, I totally understand.

... but if you enjoyed it, I'm glad. I ask that, if you find specific elements in this story to be similar to any other author's, please let me know. I don't like copying others even if by accident. Also, feel free to point out any mistakes. There will be some of this story that will be altered from the original Tekken storyline, but not too drastically. Thanks!

If you don't know what cumulonimbus clouds are, here's a link: ww2010.atmos./(Gh)/guides/mtr/cld/cldtyp/home.rxml

**Random thought:** _Rome yearns for her tyrant... and she shall have it. The US will soon be a dictatorship. It's only a matter of time... and I feel like initiating an uprising._

**Another random thought: **_Man... the American people are some dumb, lazy, gullible sheep._

**Disclaimer: **I wish I owned Jin, Hwoarang, Marduk (he'd carry me around on his shoulder, haha), and Kazuya... but I don't. :(

**P.S** If you want to see how I pictured Gracie and Jasmine, go to my main page. Just click their names and it'll take you to the link.

**P.P.S** I say 'if' waaay to damn much.


	6. Death Invite

**Chapter o6: Death Invite**

**(Gracie's POV)**

"You lazy bitch!"

I jerked my head in the direction of Carmen Decuna's kitchen. Jasmine was peering at the floor, holding back tears. Rage simmered in my veins and I bit back a crude outburst. This woman might've her aunt by marriage, but that didn't stop me from wishing to crack her skull against the wall. Jasmine caught my burning glare and shook her head.

"You just left me high and dry you selfish ungrateful brat. You knew the world was coming to an end and you left me." She ranted; she sounded like a bawling jackass.

"I've come over on several occasions to help you with the house." Jasmine whispered meekly.

The deafening echo of a slap assaulted my ears and I reacted. Before Jasmine could grasp my shirt sleeve, I had Carmen's head slammed against the kitchen table and pressing into the floor. She wailed pitifully. Hate swallowed my tongue and I licked my lips, a cold smile etching its way across my face. I wanted to pulverize her skull. I wanted to make her squeal in agony. Her days of hurting Jasmine were over.

"Gracie! Let her go!" Jasmine cried.

I looked up and found her weeping. My heart twisted to see the pain running down her cheeks. I reluctantly released the unappreciative cow. Carmen moaned and rolled onto her back to glower at me. I bared my teeth and she winced. Jasmine gripped my wrist and hurried us up to her room.

"You didn't have the right to do that." Jasmine said as she shut the door.

"I'd do it again." I snarled. "That moping, self-deluded bitch doesn't deserve family like you, Jazz."

She started gathering what clothes she needed and stuffed them into a black backpack. I watched her attentively. She stayed quiet, steady in her task. The sound of Carmen stumbling to her feet reverberated from below and I lingered near the door, just in case she decided to have a go with Jasmine again.

Her room was oddly dark which didn't seem to suit her personality, and it was depressingly barren. I plopped down on the bed next to backpack and inspected my long, uneven nails. She paused to stare at me and I held her emerald eyes tenderly.

"I'm sorry, Jazz, but you are my family. You shouldn't be treated so poorly."

"I know…" She looked away for a brief moment. "It's just that… I can't watch someone being hurt. It doesn't matter if they're the cruelest person alive."

I reached out and squeezed her shoulder. "You're special. It's something I envy about you, Jazz. You are above trivial hostility."

"I need to stand up for myself, though."

I presented a lopsided grin. "That's what you got me for."

"You've still got to teach me how to take an opponent to the ground." She laughed.

"All in good time," I said as I helped her stuff the last bit of clothing into the bag.

Carmen scowled at Jasmine as we came down the stairs. When her eyes got to me, they hastily went to the phrase imprinted on my shirt. Jasmine nudged my shoulder, knowing perfectly well what crossed my mind. I sighed and shoved past the portly woman. Jasmine followed close behind.

"Oh, before we leave, I've got one thing to say." I turned and looked at Carmen.

She darted her eyes from me to the pictures along the scarred walls.

I smirked. "If I ever see you lay a hand on Jasmine again, I'll rip you to shreds and bury your remains in an unmarked grave."

Jasmine gaped at me and Carmen's eyes were round as spheres. I nodded once and headed out the front door.

"Gracie!" Jasmine scolded as she walked beside me.

I glanced at her. "You know she deserved it. And I'm stating a very concrete fact, Jasmine. If she ever touches you again, she's worm bait."

Succumbing to my bullheadedness, she adjusted the straps of the bag, which now hugged her shoulders, and walked silently with me to my baby. The bike hadn't sustained any horrific scratches from the fall, but I was a little distraught about one near the tank. It carved along the metal exhaust for about three inches and ended in a crisscross design. I had to admit that I cried over that one.

I passed my helmet to Jasmine as she took her appointed seat behind me. She stared at the object for a moment before taking it and shoving it onto her head. She knew I wouldn't take 'no' for an answer.

Just a few days ago, M.F.C razed the White House to the ground. The country was in sheer pandemonium. Thomas had given me a gun to carry around: a precautionary measure. This was the first time Jasmine and I had left the house, besides when we went to work and found out the restaurant had been closed down. Thomas stayed long hours at the hospital. Aside from the White House, they'd struck most of our water supplies. People were turning up sick left and right. Most of them were dying.

The wind whipped through my hair as we sped down a side road. I didn't feel safe traveling on any main highways and the few police that weren't sick had no clue how to handle bedlam. They simply walked around dumbfounded and terrified, tin gods no longer.

Out of nowhere, a man suddenly dove in front of me. I felt Jasmine's arms tighten around my waist as I swerved, barely missing him. In my rearview mirror, I saw him waving clumsily. He appeared to be an idiot junkie. I shook my head and increased speed. Jasmine clutched my chest so tight that I found it hard to breathe.

She finally relaxed her hold once we got to the familiar street where I lived and my face lost its blue tint. I didn't quite take a breath yet, though. A strange man waited in my yard, sporting pressed grey pants, black shades, and a buttoned up coat that reached his knees. His black hair was smoothed back, plastered to his pale head, and his left hand held an unmarked envelope.

I pulled the bike into the garage and signaled Jasmine to stay put. She ripped off the helmet and shook her head. I cornered her in a cold glare and she submitted with little fuss. She couldn't defend herself like I could if it got ugly.

As I stepped out from the garage, he bowed his head in greeting and walked over, extending his hand with the envelope. I took it with tentative fingers. The paper felt heavy, expensive. An odd insignia branded its right corner. It looked as if four black lightning bolts, two resting, side by side, atop the others in a sleek correlation. While simple, it was an intriguing design.

"Give it to your father." The man spoke scratchily.

I gazed back at him and felt my heart tug with an unnatural sickness. I could taste the deception in his soul. It corrupted my mouth with a scission, razor edge and I glimpsed Jasmine staring wide-eyed at him from the entrance of the garage.

Without another word, the stranger turned and walked away down the road and to a black van that'd been waiting. I observed the scene with dubious eyes.

"What did he want?" Jasmine asked, coming up beside me.

"He wants me to give this," I raised the envelope, "to dad."

She ogled at it intently. "Why don't you open it first?"

I arched an eyebrow and looked back where the black van had been. The envelope felt oddly warm in my hands. Nodding to myself, I pulled the house key from my pocket and strode to the door. Jasmine hesitated in her spot, staring down the street in concern.

The silence of the house frightened me. It wasn't abnormal, but it still sent chills through my limbs. I stepped into the kitchen to grab a knife. Dishes cluttered the sink, needing to be washed, but I ignored them and rummaged through the drawer until I found a butcher knife. I placed the tip of it at the border of the envelope, right under to lip, and drug it across. The paper cut smoothly and I set the blade down to see what was hidden inside.

Jasmine wandered into the kitchen and peeked over my shoulder as I removed a thick sheet of parchment. It wasn't a flimsy piece of plain paper. I nibbled my lip and read the swoopy letters. It was an invitation. What was the Iron Fist Tournament? Was it some sort of blood sport? Excitement flooded my veins at the thought. I swiftly unfurled the invite and all but fainted. Jasmine choked on her breath and touched the parchment where the large numbers were printed in jet black ink.

Then, I distinguished the willowy signature at the base of the article- Jin Kazama.

"Him?" Jasmine gasped.

"I know my dad is well trained in the martial arts, but he hasn't participated in any tournament in years. Why would he want him, now?" I threw the parchment and the envelope down.

"People remember lions, Gracie. Thomas had made a name for himself that the people can't just forget."

I grimaced. "This could be a death sentence for him."

"He probably won't even acknowledge it." Jasmine tried to assure me.

"It'd be my luck that he did." I groaned.

"You insult Lady Luck?" Jasmine huffed. "No wonder your fortune is horrible."

I smiled feebly at her attempt at humor. "Lady Luck's a bitch."

Jasmine pursed her lips. "You can be such a pessimist sometimes."

I shrugged, chuckling. "You still love me, though."

She rolled her eyes, and then became solemn. "How are your dreams?"

I was caught off guard by the question. "They… aren't any better."

"They're getting worse?"

I exhaled and collapsed in a chair at the table. "If they could get any worse…"

"I think they are directly linked to this man." She pointed at the name.

We jumped as the front door opened and closed. Thomas' well-known, deliberate steps and the irritating jingle of his keys eased my taut heart. Jasmine also eased and took a seat across from me.

"It's hell out there." Thomas' said as he tossed his keys onto the kitchen table.

"It just got worse." I breathed.

His head snapped to me. "What is it?"

I handed him the invite and, upon reading the title, his jaw dropped and his eyes glazed.

"Dad?"

He didn't respond and I looked to Jasmine, alarmed.

"Dad?" I tried again.

He broke from his stupor with a violent shudder and dropped the parchment. His reaction embodied complete and utter fear. Why was he so afraid?

I retrieved it from the floor and looked to him. "Dad… do you know Jin Kazama?"

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**A/N:** Man... I can spit out Gracie's chapters with no problem, but Jin's... Psshhh... I finished this in a few hours! Gah! Anyway, thanks to spongecake 2 and Razer Athane. I am truly glad you two are enjoying this. And I did mean what I said: you're delicious, haha. You're full of all that great goodness that keeps this story breathing. If anyone else likes this story, thank them. I've developed a sudden interest in Leo and Dragunov. I'm seriously thinking about doing a one-shot over Dragunov. I just need an original idea (fishes around in her head). Crap... emtpy. Haha! Also, I stay on livejournal regularly, but I can't really find an active communities dedicated to Tekken. If you know something, tell me. It'd be superfly!

**To spongcake 2:** I'm glad that you think I do a decent job with Jin's point of view. Thanks for all the reviews! Oh, and every time you say hey ho, you make me think of the seven dwarves off of Snow White, haha. It's cool! ...Yeah... don't ask...

**To Razer Athane: **I gotta say it... I luff you! Bam! Ooh! I'm very happy that you liked the last chapter. I really struggled with it. It's gonna get even better... as you already know. ;D

**Disclaimer:** "Why so serious?" Bah, the Joker's hot! ... what? I didn't say that! You have no proof... oh... (randomness if fun and you know it!)


	7. Innocent Street Whore

**Made of Scars**

**Chapter o7: Innocent Street Whore**

**(Jin's POV)**

Howling moans and toothed glass tore at my soul and I ran. I ran until I felt the emptiness of my vast night amplified by my disgrace. I reached into the dark, searching for memories, past mistakes, anything but what was currently being done with my body.

The girl bucked beneath me, her sweaty, warm skin cool opposed to my own. Tears pooled in the hollows of her skull where her wild eyes rested, bloodshot and unseeing. Her lashes glistened in the dim light, wet with saline shame.

I tried to shut out her frozen expression of horror, but the shadows held me awareness in check, forcing me to witness this ghastly debauchery. I screamed, a mere silence bouncing around the confines of my brain.

**_Savor this, Kazama, as I force it down your throat._**

She wailed as my mouth curved around the nipple of one of her breasts, my teeth gnashing into the tender flesh. I tasted her hot blood and waited for my stomach to turn. It didn't. Instead, I actually felt my loins burn even more for her pain. Appalled, I ripped free from the shadow's wintry embrace and sought for a cassation to this madness. I had to stop them… somehow.

**_Stop us boy! Try it, we implore you!_**

I snarled at their taunting and resisted the shadows' crippling kisses. I needed to stay lucid, fully alert.

_She is innocent!_

They cackled. **_Yes… as innocent as a street whore._**

_You tempt her._

**_She wishes it._**

I growled in frustration. My body felt like deadweight, filled to the brim with a vespertine gloom, their hold over me. I could break it. I had to find a way.

**_Free will is something brittle. It's so easily tainted, corrupted, and forever stained. She wants this._**

_Let her go._

They mocked the lethalness in my statement with twisted mirth. **It won't make any difference if we decided to throw her in a river. She'd come crawling back like an obedient little bitch.**

Her wounded shriek perforated the air as my hips hammered viciously into her own, hurting her. I concentrated, sifting through the mistiness of my brain. They knew what I searched for. This girl didn't deserve this treatment.

**_You won't find it. You're too weak._**

_Try me…_

**_Bold words, Kazama. I'm surprised and intrigued. Finally, you're resisting. For so long, you just fell to your knees and took it. I was beginning to believe you really were a pathetic life form._**

I ignored them and kept hunting. Every time I came close, I sensed them yanking it away, deeper into the void. They moved along the sinews of muscles and drifted through the gaps of my bones, sneering perversely at me.

The girl's body quivered under mine, obviously unable to stand anymore. Her horrified eyes shut mechanically and she sobbed, her breaths fractured and shallow. As my body peeled off her own, she very carefully folded herself into the fetal position. She whimpered slightly and I hissed as I spotted blood escaping down her inner thigh.

_You'll pay for this._

**_Remember she wanted that, boy. I pay for nothing. Why do you think she lies there in humiliation?_**

_You tricked her._

_**It takes no effort to bewitch the indubious.**_

Anger overwhelmed me. _The resilience of good won't die so easily. You never bested my mother._

**Byleth_ did not best your mother. He's a fool, as it were._**

I hesitated, my awareness enclosing around that statement. _Byleth…_

**_He'd tried to possess you when you were just a babe. The fool was unable. It's not surprising._**

_He is the demon that resurrected my father._

_**He is also the demon that dwells within him… the rogue…**_

_The rogue?_

I then noted the chiffonier my body stood facing. Its mirror revealed that the girl still lay on the bed, silent and lifeless. On closer inspection, one could make out the shallow faded intakes of breath she took. Her eyes bled no more tears, though they still held the disgusted comprehension of her actions. Bruised and blotched with red, her skin appeared an ugly sallow hue in the breaks of light that spilled across the massive room.

A smaller mirror lay face up on a nightstand near the bed. Across its surface, tiny grains of snowy white powder lay scattered. Cocaine. The razor used to scrape it into neat little lines glinted beside it, leering. My fingers worked smoothly, snatching the razor and collecting the narcotic into thin orderly rows.

The creatures snickered at me before they willed my body to kneel and inhale the addictive dust through my nostrils. My brain suddenly plunged into overdrive and I wanted to scream. I wanted to resist the pleasure that saturated my insides as the drug worked through my veins.

**_Look what you've become, boy._**

My heart slammed against my lungs, fiercely vibrating my ribcage. The room became hotter… or was it the temperature of my body? Noises erupted in my ears, strange yet familiar voices, intertwined and incoherent. Air flooded my lungs and anger crushed my chest. No. Wait. It wasn't anger. It was an accelerating bliss. No. It was a devastating sadness.

For a split second, the demons released their hold on me and I fell to my knees. My body craved for a high that it would never again feel. They wanted me to feel this full on. They wanted me helpless. I was an addict. They made me this way. I made me this way. I had to fight.

I raged against the debilitating want and crawled over to the bed. The girl's eyes rolled slowly until they met me. A slow fear materialized in them and I yearned to weep.

She winced as I reached out to her, the raven tresses cascading before her stricken face. My fingers traced her damaged lips tenderly and I gave out a shuddered breath.

"I am sorry. Know that."

Her lips trembled and she stammered something in her native tongue.

"I'm… so sorry…"

Then, my muscles convulsed and I shriveled to the floor, kicking and twisting. Pain seized me with its putrid talons and tore into my soul. I was sucked back into the darkness and I screamed, though it was a silent indication of resistance… again.

_**Welcome back, Kazama.**_

_Fuck you!_

**_Come now. Aren't you having fun? I know I am._**

_Not for long._

A hand rapped at the door and the demons snarled. I could feel the presence of light, too. _Asuka Kazama._

**_White witch!_** They barked.

_Afraid?_

Invisible claws slashed my arms, leaving brutal gashes. **_Remember what I told you._ **

I resisted the urge to flout them. They wouldn't waver in harming someone I cared for… and they'd use my hands to do it.

Clothes were thrown onto my body and, in the usual fashion, the door was ripped open, scaring the guard shitless. I felt the sudden urge to sigh in exasperation. The glaring hallway lights aggrieved my throbbing eyes and I sensed the drug abruptly evaporating. That was odd. It was a short high, but it wasn't that short. The fiends snarled aggressively. Ah… It was Asuka.

"What is it?"

The guard tried to hold my construed glare. "Several participants of the Tournament have arrived, sir."

"Obviously!" My voice growled.

He visibly shrunk away and the door was slammed behind me. Another typicality. I centered my attention on the brilliance in the air. It was visible, beautiful. I'd seen light like that only once before. Mother. It didn't hold the same intensity, but one couldn't dismiss its potency. It passed along my skin coolly, appeasing it.

_You can't harm her._ I sounded so sure; it surprised me.

**_You're wrong, boy. _I _don't necessarily have to harm her._**

_You underestimate her._

**_She overestimates herself. Pride can be a fatal thing._**

At the base of the staircase, she waited. She stood in her classic pose: hands on her jutted hips and her head tilted slightly to the side, chocolate eyes shining in determination. She sported her distinctive jumpsuit and outlandish boots. Her hair had grown a bit. It suited her.

"Jin…" She said stiffly.

My mouth pulled into a smirk as the last stair was overlooked. "Asuka… fancy seeing you here again… _beloved_ cousin."

"You will be stopped, Jin, by me or someone else. It doesn't matter as long as this slaughter ends."

"You idealists… when will you ever learn?"

She squared her shoulders. "Good eventually prevails. No evil can stop it."

"Yes… But until then, evil will reign."

She was about the reply when the main doors of the mansion burst open and a streamlined man stepped in from the light. His sure expression and playful blue eyes were wholly alert, and his golden mane matched that of his mother's. She stood off in the distance staring at him… torn. The demons grinned as they perceived this.

His eyes moved from me to Asuka and back. I caught something in his stare when he met my cousin's eyes … a tenderness. The monsters howled gleefully in my mind. No.

_**Isn't that sweet? Lovebirds...**_

The Brit, Steve Fox, spoke. "Are we the first ones to arrive?"

"That should seem apparent." Asuka sighed.

"Damn," he laughed. "I was hoping to crash the party."

My feet carried me away from them to a large window that overlooked half the estate. Outside, three other contestants were arriving: Paul Phoenix, Marshall Law, and Lei Wulong. My lips curled up in a snarl at the last fighter. His long inky hair, in that somewhat irritating ponytail, was beginning to show signs of grey. They hissed at him.

_You find him to be a nuisance?_

_**Among other things…**_

_Why am I not surprised?_

Nina's fragrance floated around me, floral and sweetly lethal. Eddy Gordo walked up beside her, his characteristic footsteps amplified by the uncharacteristic boots he wore.

"G Corporation has attacked our forces in Kwangju. They've taken out half the regiment." Nina said coolly.

"Pull a third of our troops out of Moscow and send them there."

Eddy gave a curt nod and departed with his new mission. Nina was about to turn, but my voice stopped her.

"Your son is pleasant."

Nina bristled at the coldness in my tenor, though she held her tongue. She knew better.

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**A/N:** Am I evil? Yes, I am. Haha, I don't know what it is about me, but I love to see Jin suffer. It makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside! Would that make me a sadist (haha, thanks sponge cake 2!!)? Anyway, I hope you all enjoyed. I'm sorry it took so long to cough up this chapter. Thankfully, I'm already halfway done with the next installment.

Kwangju is a Korean city for those who didn't know.

**Disclaimer:** Ooh... Shizzzaaaam! xD


	8. Cryptic Past

**ALERT:** I just realised I made a HUGE error (bangs head against desk repeatedly). I was reviewing my earlier chapters and I found that I'd said Gracie had been riding motorcycles since before her mother had died. That is incorrect. This chapter might be confusing do to that little mistake. I deeply apologize about that. Gracie actually never knew her mother. All Thomas had ever told her was that she'd died giving birth to her.

* * *

**Made of Scars**

**Chapter o8: Cryptic Past**

**(Gracie's POV)**

I sat alone in my room, my legs folded beneath me on my bed. The picture frame in my hand glinted against the dying rays of the sun as I rolled the fingers of my free hand within a blanket, twisting the material into a tight ball. It was an odd little habit I'd developed when I was a toddler, a nervous tick.

A teenage woman gazed cheerfully back at me from the photo, her dazzling smile wreathed by full lovely lips. Her eyes, the most curious of blues, were speckled with reflective slivers of grey. I wasn't going to deny that this grey matched my own. Her chin, lips, and hair color rivaled mine as well.

"Mother…"

The word tickled my tongue in such a way. I sighed shakily, my heart trembling.

Beside my mother, a young version of Thomas grinned, his sandy mess of hair disheveled and lengthy. It hadn't changed at all, aside from the receding hairline. His arm draped around her tiny shoulders and a cigarette hung from his mouth, a habit he kicked right after I turned four. He'd said it wasn't healthy for a child to be around a smoker.

In the living room, he and Jasmine stayed, giving me room no doubt. It'd been a wise idea, because right now I wanted to tear someone's head off. I really didn't care who as long as I could liberate my anger, frustration, and betrayal in one fell swoop.

I could hear the faint voice of the reporter babbling on the TV about the inundation of crime that'd drown the country. Apparently, there wasn't enough room in the prisons and they were chiefly considering mass execution.

"Gracie?" Jasmine said with care, her knuckles rapping gently at the door.

I didn't glance away from the portrait. "Come in, Jazz."

The door opened timidly and her head popped into view, a few strands of teak colored hair falling before her anxious eyes. I motioned for her to sit beside me and she complied. Silence swathed around us with its wraith-like veil, eerie, uncomfortable. I embraced that tension. I needed it, though I didn't know why. Thomas hadn't told me everything, and he didn't plan to. I knew that he'd done this to protect me, but I couldn't refuse the fire that thrashed in my veins.

"Thomas loves you, Grace. He was only doing what he thought was right." Jasmine began, cautious.

I jerked my eyes away from the picture frame and shrugged. "I know…"

"Gracie, don't do this." She grasped my shoulder, her fingers warm to my cold skin.

"Don't do what?"

She winced at my spiteful tone and sucked in a tearful breath.

I instantly regretted my cruelty, and even more so when she leaned over and kissed my cheek, a gesture of absolute love. The tears spilled at the very moment she shut the door behind her, that whisper of humanity departing with her. Hostility enveloped the room: my juvenile bitterness.

"I'm sorry, Jasmine." I murmured to no one.

Something cackled nastily from the dark, obscure corners of my mind and I felt that wrenching sensation again. It yanked ruthlessly at my spine, causing slithery spikes to ripple up my back.

Thomas knew the origins of my nightmares. He had always known. I understood that now. I didn't really have the right to be angry with him, but it currently seemed to be the most accessible emotion.

The sound of the door opening caught my attention and I whipped back around when I saw who it was. Thomas came and sat on the bed beside me, leery. He was prudent. I felt the sudden need to scream at him, but it died away as soon as it'd surfaced.

"Gracie, honey…"

I scooted to the opposite side of the bed, putting as much distance between us as possible.

"Baby… I did it to protect you…"

My eyes cut around to him. "So you kept the fact that you'd personally known my mother a secret… that you were in love with her… that she had been…" I couldn't say the word.

He tried to take one of my hands and I ripped it away. Pain flashed in his eyes and I regretted the hasty action, though my stubborn pride wouldn't let me apologize.

"Gracie, please understand that your situation is… difficult, to say the least."

"It probably wouldn't be so difficult if you'd just tell me everything." I snarled.

"It's not that simple." He whispered. "I've tried to keep you safe… secret… all your life. It's what your mother wanted."

I scrunched my face. "Secret from what?"

"In the dream world, they can find you. If you acknowledge who you are, they will see you."

It sounded like insane gibberish, yet it made perfect sense. "The shadows in my dreams… they are the ones after me?"

"No…" He paused, "They are merely shadows… demons."

"You've known about my dreams all this time." I said coldly.

He averted his eyes to the ground. "I thought it had stopped after your thirteenth birthday. I had hoped it did."

"What is it?"

He sighed. "You have a connection to Jin Kazama, other than the fact that his mother had found your mother and nursed her back to health while she was pregnant with you."

I watched him, waiting for him to carry on.

"We… I mean… don't…" He massaged his temples, and then continued. "I'm not going to that tournament and I don't want you going, either."

"Thomas," I said his name emptily. "You just told me that I'm the result of a rape. And now, you don't want me to go to this man, even though he may have answers to the reason I suffer horrific nightmares… ones you don't wish to give me."

"Have you dreamt about him?" Thomas gazed intensely at me.

"Why should I tell you if I did? You've obviously kept secrets from me."

He emitted another sigh of frustration. "Don't go after him, do you hear me Gracie Elizabeth?"

I glared at the wall behind him and rolled my tongue along my teeth in aggravation. "Of course, daddy…"

He studied me for a moment before rising from the bed and leaving the room. I watched the door click shut after him and yielded to the second wave of tears that stabbed my eyes. Within a matter of a few hours, I'd learned that I wasn't a child my mother had wanted. My father, the blood I carried in my own veins, raped her raw and I was the outcome… the side effect.

Thomas insisted that my mother had loved me, that, if she'd survived, she would've taken care of me with no limitations. I wouldn't have been the evidence of her rape. I wanted to believe him, but I couldn't. If it'd happened to me, I couldn't look at my child in that way. Every time I would see her, I'd want to vomit.

My head throbbed with an unnecessary headache and I beat my fists into the many pillows that lay helpless on my bed. After their vicious punishment, I threw them at opposite sides of the room and headed to the kitchen. Jasmine stared at me as I walked through the hallway and stopped to linger in the day room. I sensed her there before she even spoke.

"You have a headache?"

I swear the girl knew me all too well. "Yeah…"

"Let's go sit in the kitchen. We can also talk if you want." She wrapped an arm around my shoulder.

"You're too good to me, Jazz."

She smiled. "You're human just as I. Don't make me out to be some angel."

I fixed a glass of water and sat down at the kitchen table. "You can't deny what you are."

She rolled her eyes. "Whatever, Gracie babe. Do you want Tylenol or Advil?"

"Advil," I answered.

She poked around in one of the overhead cabinets, and then came to sit beside me. I gazed at the two white pills in her open hand and at the glass of water. Taking pills wasn't exactly my forte. Normally, it ended with me almost dying. I had horrible gag reflexes. I even choked on my own air on occasion.

"I'm here if you need the Heimlich preformed." Jasmine said as she dropped the pills into my tentative hand.

"That's very comforting." I uttered as I leaned my head back and popped them into my mouth.

I washed them down with water as best I could and, thankfully, I didn't choke. They skated slickly down my throat and I shuddered. It was a horrible feeling.

Jasmine patted my leg. "You didn't die."

I laughed after I took another swig. "Nope."

It grew quiet and I stared out one of the windows, humming softly to myself. I didn't know the name of the tune, or its origin. I'd simply hummed it, or sang the words since before I could even remember.

Jasmine took my glass and twirled the water around a bit, analyzing it. She wanted to say something, but she was holding back. I glanced at her and she set the drink down to wring her hands in her lap. My own hands lay limp on the table, trembling slightly.

"Thomas is going to be so mad at you." Jasmine finally said.

I checked to see if he'd moved from his spot and scowled at her. "Don't you dare tell him."

"I'm going with you."

My jaw dropped. "Like hell you are!" I hissed.

"You could kick my ass, but that wouldn't stop me from telling Thomas and you know it."

I glowered at her. "It's dangerous."

She scoffed. "It's dangerous for you, too. Don't be so arrogant, Gracie."

I growled. "You can be such a pain sometimes."

She smiled tenderly. "Likewise."

I sniggered at that statement and sighed. "I've got several thousand dollars saved up that was supposed to go for college. I bet I could talk Vinnie into flying us to Tokyo."

Jasmine looked skeptical. "Part of the city has been destroyed due to all the fighting. Are you sure?"

"Money can buy practically anyone and I'm the step daughter of one of his good friends."

"How does your father know Vinnie anyway?"

I leaned back into the chair. "They'd lived in China before Dad decided to move back to America. He and Vinnie had studied one of the many branches of Shaolin Kong Fu together."

She nodded as she absorbed the information. "And how'd he gotten into flying private jets?"

I shrugged. "He'd gone into the Air Force and found out that he enjoyed it."

She shook her head. "I don't like flying."

I grinned. "You don't have to go, you know?"

She chortled. "Don't insult my intelligence."

I was about to retort, but she shook her head. In the next few seconds, Thomas walked inot the kitchen and opened the Refrigerator. He snuck a peek at me and saw me staring. He swiftly shifted his eyes and pulled out a jug of orange juice.

"How can one drink orange juice at night? That's a morning drink." Jasmine was probably trying to make the atmosphere a little less suffocating.

It didn't work.

I cleared my throat and Thomas snapped his head in my direction. We partook in a pointed staring contest before Jasmine chose to break it.

"Mr. Miller?"

He turned his attention to her as he began pouring him a glassful. I turned back around and watched Jasmine.

She kept her eyes on Thomas as she spoke. "How much longer do you think we can keep the country running?"

"I almost wish they'd give up the fight and let MFC have control." He said gravely.

"It would halt some of the chaos here." Jasmine nodded.

"Either way, things are going to get much worse."

I couldn't restrain the acidic barb boiling in my throat. "You would know wouldn't you?"

Jasmine looked at me wide-eyed and I heard Thomas rip open the door of the Fridge. Ire seared my insides and I got up and walked out of the room. If I'd have lingered a moment longer, I would have fought Thomas right there in the kitchen. He would have beaten me, but the feel of my fists crashing into his face would have relieved some of my pent up anger.

I was being childish, though I didn't care.

Outside, a bitter cold cleaved to the twilight and the large drove of shimmering stars glittered in a lovely veil of soft light. I sat down on the dying grass of the front lawn and tilted my head back to observe the sky. The last rays of sunset tinged the heavens a brilliant coral and I smiled, relaxing at last.

I shouldn't have been upset with my father. Thomas _was_ my father. He did everything to protect me. He'd kept my past a secret to shield me from the pain of my conception. He'd also done it to hide me from whatever else was out there that could harm me. That thought made me uneasy. What was he not tell me?

Jasmine came up beside me and sat down. Her brunette hair tickled my naked arm and I pulled my gaze away from the sky to focus on her. She frowned at me, an expression that did not suit her angelic face.

"This isn't the time to fight. We all need each other."

I cast my eyes to the ground. "I know."

She wrapped her arm around my shoulders. "Besides, Thomas will be furious enough with us sneaking off to that tournament."

I tittered. "Yeah…"

"When do you plan to leave?"

"I will call Vinnie later tonight. When he's drunk, he's much easier to convince."

She giggled. "You're awful."

"I'm shooting for a couple of days." I continued. "We'll have to split when my dad's at the hospital, which won't be too hard."

She bent her head. "Things went to Hell so fast."

I maneuvered my arm around her shoulders. "Change is inevitable. Get used to it."

She rested her head against my neck and I lay my head atop hers. We were silent the remainder of the time, simply watching the night pass away.

**o**

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**A/N:** Once again, sorry about that_ little_ hiccup. If this chapter is confusing in any way, let me know. Thanks! Anyway, Dasvidania will hopefully be updated soon. I'm working on it as you read this. I've got another fanfic under my sleeve. It revolves around the mysterious and beautiful Kunimitsu. I don't see many (correct that) **ANY** fanfics about her, so I am making one. It shall be lengthy like 'Made of Scars'. It'll be set in the time frame between the first tournement and the ending of the second tournement. That may vary, though. I'm still toying with the idea.

(I wasn't for sure I'd answered your reviews or even thanked all of you for reviewing so... If I have, don't worry about reading these.)

_sponge cake 2:_ I think I answered you back, but thanks again.

_Razer Athane:_ Thanks for faving! I'm glad you're liking this fanfic. I need to finish yours, haha. Hopefully, I'll find some time soon.

_SeungSeiRan:_ I'm so glad you like it! You're welcome for that fp comment, by the way. You deserved it! The piece was lovely!

_My DoRk:_ Bitch, if you read this, I want my drawings done, now! Right now! I don't go around making all that ho money for nothing. Snap to it, you ol' slut! -smiles- I looooove youuuuu, Sandra! -cough- whore -cough-

**Disclaimer:** ...


	9. Secret

**Made of Scars**

**Chapter o9: Secret**

**(Jin's POV)**

The Mishima Throne room echoed with its emptiness, the vast expanse of pillars and cold stone floor screaming. Three days had passed since the first participants arrived. More were still pouring in. My fingers skimmed along the plush arms of the extravagant chair and I sat down. The cool silk emitted a soft, melodic hiss as my body molded into it.

**_That little Xiaoyu brat might want to tread softly. I'm considering snapping her swan neck._**

_You will not touch her._ I snarled.

_**She's a close friend. How convenient. I think I'll toy with her.**_

Ling had harbored feelings for me since the day we'd met. It seemed so long ago. She would be easy prey to the demons' charms, especially when it was my face they donned. She'd be an innocent victim. Xiao was a strong girl, but she didn't exactly excel in the commonsense department. She had come to save my soul from evil. She needed to worry about her own.

The cell phone in my front pocket suddenly came to life with a tiny shudder.

Upon flipping it open and planting it to my ear, a smooth, low voice spoke. "A situation has arisen."

Lars Alexandersson.

"What kind of situation?"

"Two women claim to want to speak with you. One is being extremely difficult. They aren't on the roster."

"They are too much for you?" My voice mocked. "Why don't you shoot them?"

"The girl says her last name is Miller."

I abruptly recalled the list of names handed out for the tournament. Miller. It'd been on the register, but what had been the first name?

A fervor that was not my own, sieved through me. "What's the girl's first name?"

"She says her name is Gracie."

The name wasn't familiar, though the demons sneered excitedly. "I'm on my way."

_Who is she?_

**_Patience…_** They snickered.

The phone was snapped shut and my body launched from the throne, an eager grin nearly breaking my face in half. Several fighters turned their heads toward me as I burst through the double doors from behind the extensive balcony, which connected to two sprawling staircases. Hwoarang smirked at me, his russet eyes glowing with anticipation. He stood near Fox, Phoenix, and Law. Nina prowled along the balcony, keeping a close eye on the Spaniard who watched me with daggers in his eyes. Asuka stood near Fox, her gaze regretful, and Xiao stood be herself, her lower lip jutting out in grief and her outdated pigtails swaying at the sides of her head. Julia Chang, a beautiful woman of Native American descent, surveyed me with a veiled expression of inner conflict and betrayal. We'd been fairly good friends before all of this.

Now, I was her enemy. I was everyone's enemy.

**_So many wish you dead…_** They mused. **_Some wish to understand… and one wishes you to just notice her._**

_Leave Xiao alone!_

**_Why? She looks rather tasty._**

_She's innocent._

**_Precisely._**

I murmured a prayer of protection and the creatures growled as if I'd burned them. Hopefully, it would shield Xiao from the dark appeal of these fiends.

_**You're a fool, Kazama. You think pretty little words will save her?**_

_I'm limited to hope unfortunately._

**_Hope is an irrational passion._**

They scraped their talons across my bones, forcing my ribcage outward, and my muscles were set ablaze. The imaginary scent of roasted flesh taunted me and their deafening screeches came close to shattering my eardrums. I resisted my initial reaction to beg for silence and remained resolute in their obscurity.

The clamor became louder as I stepped outside. My skin tingled and the hairs on my arms stood at attention due to the cold. The sun shone fiercely, a dazzling stream of light. It was a glorious though excruciating sight. My eyes squinted and a pair of sleek shades was placed over them. The creatures licked at the marrow in my bones, their barbed tongues chipping it away. I had to remain steadfast. It was all an illusion.

_**Just keep saying that to yourself.**_ They laughed.

I concentrated, focusing all my mental energy into a tiny sphere. Shock filtered through me as I witnessed what I'd conjured. The lashing currents slithered within and around the ball, hypnotizing and deadly.

_My mother's blood still exists in my veins._ I grinned.

They roared and extinguished the shimmering globe. _**You belong to us, boy.**_

The act hadn't been much, but it showed me what they didn't want me to see. I had a chance. Content in this knowledge, I quieted down and inclined into the gloom.

**_You challenge us and you will lose._**

_The only reason you have power over me now is because I'd given up. I'd been weak. I_ let you _take control of me._

_**The possibilities of free will…**_ They hissed mockingly. _**You're right. You chose us. Instead of your bloated, rotting corpse of a mother, you elected us.**_

Shame and self-loathing clouded my soul and I reached into archaic memories. They flashed before me like fading strips of film and I clawed at them, trying to find a hold. Then, my mother emerged from the darkness, her belly swollen and her lips voicing a curious lullaby. The divine words alleviated the darkness that enfolded my conscious and I shyly touched her round tummy. She followed my action and smiled. I smiled back.

_Free will is a wavering matter of judgment._

**_This is your final warning, boy._**

_I believe I've made my decision._

There silence was a definite promise of Hell that would be paid for my defiance. I didn't care. For so long, I'd let evil reign. I'd succumbed to torment one time too many. They feared Asuka and they'd feared my mother. Her blood soaked my veins, which meant they feared me as well.

Centering on the present, I found myself gripping a high-speed crotch rocket with the wind tearing my raven bangs to and fro. The stainless steel gleamed against the sun's rays and the vibrating purr of the engine flowed across my body. They were in such a hurry…

The girl. Gracie Miller. Why were they so eager to meet her?

People walking down the busy sidewalks were a mere blur as I zoomed past them. The soaring buildings loomed over the uneasy metropolis, some still standing and others reduced to rubble. It hadn't been difficult overcoming Tokyo and most of the main cities in Japan. North America was still battling the Tekken Force, but they were hastily tumbling to defeat. It wouldn't be long before the MFC had total control of the _Promise_ Land, the second Rome... and they unknowingly begged for their Caesar.

The demons smirked at my current train of thought.

_Hail Caesar, huh?_

**_Something like that…_**

An unexpected jolt surged up my spine and a hammering heartbeat pummeled my ears. Father. His cold aura slinked within my torso and coiled around my heart. He was very close now. I could feel the world shifting us ever nearer.

In the distance, the tower of the southwest post stabbed at the monochrome blue sky. Several figures clad in pristine black armor waited in a tight circle, their weapons at the ready. The bike screeched to a halt about twenty feet away from them and Lars broke through the troops, his ludicrous cape billowing in the wind. He saluted me in mid-step and I copied the action.

We walked back through the circle and my thought pattern died away. Silver eyes scrutinized me like obsidian blades, unyielding, lethal. Full lips were pressed in a thin line and lean muscled arms were arched in a defensive position.

Another female flanked her left. This girl's timorous jade eyes darted over each individual, her small though fitting lips slightly parted. She possessed an angel's face, compassionate, perfectly unbiased. She also exceeded the other girl's physical beauty, though that didn't make the other any less attractive.

**_The keeper! _**

_The keeper?_

"Mr. Kazama, I've…" She stopped short, blocking Lars impending fist, and the soldiers tensed, impatience coaxing their trigger fingers.

He snarled at her, his brown eyes blazing. "You will not address him in such a way!"

She cocked an eyebrow. "Listen here, you ass kissing subordinate. You're buddies might get me in a rush, but not before I kick your throat in. Now, knock that shit off."

Her friend tugged roughly on her arm, shock and fear radiating from the girl.

Lars eyes flashed with rage and he flexed his shoulders, preparing to execute a deadly kick. I stopped him with but a wave of my hand and the troops rapidly shouldered their rifles. The women surveyed me with cautious expressions and my mouth twitched with an approaching sneer.

"You must be Miss Gracie Miller."

Her hands clenched and her silver eyes remained unreadable. "Mr. Kazama, I would like to speak with you."

"Obviously," My voice drawled.

The girl beside her observed Lars and me silently. There was something about her that made the demons writhe in agitation, something in her air.

"So… is that a yes or a no?" Gracie asked, her glare switching to Lars, who bared his teeth.

"I want them both escorted to the mansion… _exactly_ as they are, _now_." The end of the command was stressed and Lars gawked at me.

He planned to hurt Gracie. Why did they not want her harmed?

**_Our keeper..._**

_What the hell are you two babbling about?_

_**It's a secret!** _They jeered. _**It wouldn't be a secret if you knew!**_

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**A/N:** The last chapter was a little... ehhh. I had difficulty writing it for some reason. I'll probably end up going back and editing it. The updates will be sparce in the near future due to a job I've FINALLY attained, and Jujitsu classes I'm planning to take. I'm super stoked. A friend of mine showed me a defensive move a few days ago and had me in a reverse neck-lock. It was AWESOME! This chapter was a bit easier to write. I'm getting the hang of Jin's POV, at last! Yay! Thanks for reading and I hope you enjoyed this installment. Reviews are definitely welcome. If it's getting too cliche that I keep referring to Gracie's eyes with the metaphor 'obsidian', tell me! I'm obsessed with that word at the moment.

**Random spasm:** Holy shit!! Resistance 2 comes out on Nov. 4!! My bro and I kick serious ass on that game. AHHHH! -cough- Okay... I'm done...

**Question:** Please let me know which name you like... Hikari or Alluriana? I'm kinda stuck. I like them both...

_sponge cake 2: _Thanks for the feedback, man! Let me know if Jin's not suffering enough, haha!

_SeungSeiRan: _I'm curious... does 'Sei' mean live. I was sifting through some Japanese phrases and I came across that word. Thanks for your reviews! I'm glad you liked the last installment, though I have to agree with Razer. It was a bit choppy and confusing. Overall, it was just jumbled. I tend to be more thorough with Jin's chapters because of the difficulty with his POV. I need to start checking hers, too.

_Raidenlover6_: Thanks for the review! I'm glad you like my story so far!

_Razer Athane_: I hope this installment was better than the last. Like I said, I'll end up editing that chapter anway. xD

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything Tekken.


	10. Dissecting Eyes

**Made of Scars**

**Chapter 1o: Dissecting Eyes**

**(Gracie's POV)**

Many different walks of the Globe lingered in an absurdly extravagant foyer of a huge manor. I lingered along with them, scrutinizing every pair of eyes. They all appeared to hide something or other, but one man, in particular, caught my attention. He stood on his own near the entrance, his strange horns of white hair arching straight up. His black eyes caught mine and he deepened his scowl.

He'd just arrived only moments ago. Who was he?

Jasmine stepped closer beside me and nodded her head toward some porcelain oriental with peppy pigtails. She was undeniably adorable, though grief clouded her deep brown eyes. I cocked an eyebrow and looked back at Jasmine.

She shrugged. "The girl's just so sad. I can feel her connection to him…" she pointed to Kazama as he ascended one of the sprawling staircases. "There's so much negative energy in here, but most of it is coming from him. It's just so focused… so centered."

I sighed. "I know. It's almost suffocating."

"Thomas is already on his way here." She said, offhand.

I glanced at her and smirked. "Get a taste of his anger, did you?"

She shuddered. "Yes… and it's unpleasantly bitter."

Chuckling, I patted her back. "Don't fret. It's going to be me who takes the fall."

"Don't do that, Gracie." She scolded quietly. "You can be such a thespian sometimes. We're both in it deep."

I sighed theatrically. "You know I was in theatre all through high school and got the lead every year."

She rolled her eyes. "Yeah… you're such a drama queen."

I feigned taking offense. "I resent that statement."

She giggled and was about to retort, though the room grew insanely silent.

Kazama stood at the middle of the balcony, his hands resting on the balustrade and his trench coat gone. A sleek button up shirt hugged his toned stature and those smooth black shades concealed his eyes. I made a face. I didn't care for all that muscle. The question was: how skilled is he. I examined his cool, borderline sadistic expression and wanted to cringe. That coldness didn't fit him. It made him ugly.

Jasmine shook her head and furtively pointed to a raven-haired beauty hanging back in the shadows, her bedroom eyes of chocolate disdain slicing through every soul in the room. We locked gazes and she attempted to force her eyes into mine, analyzing my soul. I resisted and pressed her knife-like stare back into her own soul. She scowled at me, a shrewd look washing over her face.

What was her reason for being here? Why had she attracted Jasmine's attention?

"Welcome to the sixth Iron Fist Tournament." Jin's velvety, though guttural voice boomed.

I frowned unsurely. Did that snarling undertone really match his tenor?

"If you have just arrived, my servants will have your things taken to the rooms where you'll be staying on the East Wing. The tournament begins tomorrow and I wouldn't want you to be disqualified by fighting outside of the arena. The reward is far too vast to risk." He paused, removing his sunglasses and gazing down at a few participants. "I'm sure we agree."

Utter silence. This wasn't just an empty silence. It swelled with bestial aggression. I looked to Jasmine and she caught my stare, her lips worrying between her teeth. So we'd walked into the lion's den. There wasn't anything that could be done now. We had to just go with it.

The blonde female warrior standing beside him motioned to the no account ass kisser I'd had trouble with at one of the check points just south of the city. I think he'd said his name was Alexander-something-or-other. He walked through the crowd, purposely shoving past me with a well placed elbow. I suppressed a grunt of pain and glowered at his back. His dopey cape tempted me, but I decided to let go of the urge to grab it and wrap it tightly around his neck.

…maybe later…

He saluted Kazama and turned back to all of us. "Now, please follow me to the banqueting hall for a ceremonial dinner."

I watched Jin and the fierce woman as they descended the stairs. Jasmine curled her fingers around my hand; they were trembling. I squeezed her hand and trailed behind the ass kisser. One of the fighters next to us, his hair the color of vermilion, snickered at Kazama as we passed the staircase. Kazama cocked an eyebrow at him and grinned.

Pressing Jasmine closer to my side, we both slowed our walk to let the woman and Kazama in front of us. He waved the woman ahead and remained by us. I kept my gaze on the hallway further on and bit my tongue to restrain my face from showing any emotion. He was looking at me; I could feel it.

Many eyes were roving over me, burning into my back and attempting to stab through my flesh. They were looking at Jasmine, too. I peered at her from the corner of my eye and she gave a faint nod. What was so damn interesting about both of us?

"It's a pity you won't be participating in the contest." Jin murmured.

I breathed evenly in and out. "I came here for answers, not to waste my time with a hollow blood sport."

"I disagree with the hollow part, but blood sport sounds about right." He chortled.

"Slightly animalistic, are we?"

He captured my eyes and didn't let them deviate. "Slightly would be a mild understatement."

Jasmine tugged at my hand and I held my next input at the back of my throat. Why did I frequently find my way into controversial situations? Was I too ballsy for my own good?

The next area we entered could've easily fit my house with room to spare. Three colossal chandeliers hung from the arched ceiling and a lengthy table spanned across the middle of the decorative marble floor. A vivid painting of two dragons battling, one yellow and one black, reached across the ceiling. I gaped at it, awed by the intricacy of the design.

Kazama stepped up to an overstated, though beautiful chair at the head of the table. At least fifty other understated chairs bowed before its lavishness. People began to take their seats in these simple chairs and Jasmine and I followed, however; I froze when I felt steely fingers slithering around my arm. I looked back to see Kazama smiling. How he'd walked up behind me without me even noticing sent chills up my spine.

Jasmine got up from her seat and he shook his head sternly, not breaking eye contact with me. "I would be delighted if you would come and sit by me, Miss Miller."

I couldn't mask my blushing cheeks from all the dissecting eyes and I yanked my arm out of his hand. "Sure… but don't ever touch me again."

He bowed his head in apology. "Do forgive me, _Miss Miller_."

I ignored his faint sneer and walked over to the empty seat I assumed was now mine. He strode over to his own chair and stood beside it, lifting a wineglass. The blood red liquid swirled tantalizingly and I glanced down at my matching glass… with the same ruby liquid.

"I propose a toast to Chaos… and... a toast to all of you. May you walk away with your lives intact."

I didn't expect everyone to raise their glasses, but they did. Also, the hostility level elevated several notches in that few seconds. I hastily brought the wineglass to my lips and drank, disregarding the bitter tang of the drink. It trickled down my esophagus like virulent ice and I swallowed numerous times to try and rid myself of the taste.

Conversations bloomed at different sections of the table. I stayed my tongue and found Jasmine sitting wordlessly by the combatant with that vermilion tinged hair. Beside him sat a very refined looking man in his late forties. Silver streamed through his dusky hair and his perceptive sharp eyes embodied that of a hawk. Like the red-headed fighter alongside him, he appeared to be oriental, though I didn't believe him to be Japanese or Chinese.

On Jasmine's opposite, a very obese man sat. Was he really looking to win this tournament? I frowned. Appearances could be deceiving on occasion. Perhaps this plump man had more up his sleeve than I knew.

"How did you come by such astounding eyes?" Kazama's inquiry tripped my train of thought and I jerked my head toward him.

"I'm not… quite sure. I suppose they're a mix of my mother and…" My voice died away and he perceived my internal strife.

"I am sorry. Is your father deceased?"

I studied the wry silkiness in his voice and my blood boiled. He meant to hurt me with this issue. Did he know? If he did, how could he? I squared my shoulders and smiled frostily at him. "I don't know actually."

He motioned to the servants at the door and turned his attention back to me, a knowing flicker in his gaze. "Why is that?"

"I've never met the guy."

The room had become rather quiet. I dug my nails into my palms and grit my teeth. I was not going to let him govern my reactions or toy with me.

"Did he not wish to be a part of your life?"

I didn't answer at the moment and decided to gander at the blonde warrior. She sat before me, her posture hushed and erect, and her bitter blue eyes wholly impenetrable. The emotions she harbored were intense. That was one thing she couldn't hide that.

I then looked back at Kazama, indifference masking my face. "I wouldn't know considering I'm the product of a rape."

His murky eyes lit up and he laughed. "You're very frank. Might I call you Gracie?"

My eye twitched. "I'd rather you didn't."

He grinned widely. "Very well then…"

I was caught off guard as a plate appeared in front of my face and I about knocked it out of the unsuspecting hand. The servant instantly apologized, set the plate down, and scurried away. I gawked at the unfamiliar food. The meat exhibited a swarthy brown texture. It didn't appear to be beef, though.

"It's eel."

My eyes bulged in alarm as I gaped at him.

He indicated the chop sticks in his hand. "You eat with these."

I snapped my jaw shut and growled at his derisive comment. "No shit."

The blonde woman eyed me harshly and I scoffed at her. Kazama was having fun. He separated me from Jasmine. He pressed on about my father. Why'd I even come here? I wouldn't get answers from this arrogant, silver spoon punk with thick black eyebrows that reminded me of a damn caterpillar. His face annoyed me, tremendously.

There was no way I would use these puny sticks. I waved at one of the servant and she hurried over.

"Yes ma'am?"

"Do you have any real utensils?" I held up the chop sticks.

She looked to Kazama uncomfortably and he guffawed. "Get her some _real _utensils, please."

Once again, he'd centered everyone's concentration on me. I glared at him and he winked at me. I snorted and turned away in disgust. What was his deal?

I sought Jasmine's emerald eyes. She'd been watching the whole scene. It worried her. I could definitely see it in the grimace she gave me.

It was then that the _real_ utensils distracted my attention as they were set before me. Unfortunately, I didn't even have time to thank the woman. She raced away in a flurry of white and black clothing. I poked at the silverware suspiciously. It'd be my luck that they were explosive.

I hesitated, carefully taking the fork into my hand. The fork didn't go 'boom'. I secretly released a sigh of relief. After affronting him as I'd done, he should've had me pulverized.

I glanced at Kazama. "It's innate."

"I would say you have a certain knack for flirting with Death."

I blinked, unsure of how to take the statement. "You can call it my hobby."

His eyes danced. "Interesting hobby…"

"I suppose." I muttered as I stabbed my fork into a mysterious pile of vegetables.

He watched while I lifted the fork to my lips in a suave motion. It was about the only graceful thing I could do besides martial science. I slipped the utensil in my mouth and paused to gaze at him. His lips twitched, slithering into a crooked smirk.

That's when I noted the disgusting flavor that suffocated my tongue and I coughed, wanting more than anything to spit the mouthful out. Jasmine glanced, her eyes bulging in alarm. I waved it off and sat my fork back on the plate, swallowing thickly.

I could feel the eyes on me for the upteenth time. Killing this _Kazama_ sounded really fun at the moment. I kept my stare on my lap and curled a lock of hair between my fingers. The urge to get the hell out of dodge was more than tempting. I chewed at my lip and shifted in my seat. It'd grown uncomfortably hot and my legs were beginning to sweat. I mentally groaned and ducked my head until a curtain of dark hair veiled my face.

"Are you alright?"

I glowered at him and kept my tone low. "I tell you what, Kazama. Why don't you piss off."

He arched one of those damned caterpillar eyebrows. "Be careful, Gracie. You want answers, don't you?"

"I'm not exactly here for my health."

He slipped a bite of food into his mouth and set the chop sticks aside. "Good."

-

Later that night, Jasmine and I sat in one of the many gargantuan bed chambers on the East Wing. I lay back on the equally gigantic bed and blew at the stray hairs that'd fallen in my face.

"He wants you. You know that don't you?" She paused. "I don't know what he wants you for, but he covets you."

"How can he covet me if he doesn't even know me?"

She got up from the bed. "That's the thing… he does know you… and has known you."

"How?"

"I… feel that… he's somehow been inside you before… that darkness…"

I shot up from the bed, confused. "What?"

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**A/N:** Okay... for some reason, when I was writing this chapter, I kept hearing _Weak and Powerless_ by **A Perfect Circle** bouncing around in my head... weird... Anyway, I had great fun with this chapter. I'm finally getting to write about every character and I got it in right before I start my job! I hope this makes up for the tardiness that's about to ensue because of it. Oh, and I've drawn Gracie. If you'd like to see her, simply go to my profile and it's the link dubbed: **Gracie**. I hope to draw Jasmine soon, but I'm not counting on it. I'm amazed I drew Gracie... I hope you guys enjoyed this one!! Oh, and one more thing, if I was incorrect about the color of eel meat, let me know. I wasn't for sure about that. xD

_Razer Athane:_ My dad liked that line, too!!

_sponge cake 2:_ Thanks for the tips, tee hee. Just a question... do you like sponge cake? Oh, and I know you liked how I described Jin's eyebrows!!!! Man... it was just there. I had to, haha.

_SeungSeiRan:_ You took Judo! Hardcore! I'm glad you like how I am portraying Jin's struggle. I didn't want him to seem really whiny, or a perfect man stuck in shadow. I wanted him to appear as a typical human who just didn't want to face his hell. He's not weak, though he's not at his true strength yet, either.

**Disclaimer:** wax on... wax off... wax on... wax off...


	11. Curious Nightmare

**Chapter 11: Curious Nightmare**

**(Jin's POV)**

My heart pounded… deafeningly.

I tried to move, but my limbs refused my command.

This was a dream. It had to be. I could smell corrosion, slime, and death. It slinked up my nostrils and suffocated my throat. My back arched as the disgusting odor spread throughout my lungs and I gagged. Spittle oozed out of the sides of my mouth and collected between my cheek and the cold, soggy ground.

Water droplets pelted against my skin-- rain. I inhaled carefully, taking in the repulsive air little by little. Then, I forced all my energy deep into my gut and willed my hands to claw at the earth. It worked. I wriggled my toes. That worked, too.

"Golden slumber kiss your eyes,  
Smiles await you when you rise."

The soft feminine voice leisurely entered my ears and I pried me aching eyes open. The world appeared a rustic ugly red, pulsing. My heart still hammered within my ribs and I cautiously placed my palms onto the ground, pulled my knees underneath my midsection, and pushed off the dirt into a sitting position. My head swam with a shattering migraine and it took a moment for my eyes to adjust to the darkness.

This place wasn't my dreamland. This hell wasn't my own. It seemed so empty somehow. Oddly enough, I'd felt like I'd been here a few times before. I recognized the chaotic pattern of the owner's emotions.

"Sleep...  
Pretty baby,  
Do not cry,  
And I'll sing you a lullaby."

I jerked my head toward the sound too fast and a jolt of white hot pain cascaded down my spine. I hollered out in surprise and suddenly bit down on my tongue to suppress the loud outburst. My scream echoed throughout the stygian blackness and I waited, unmoving. No oily bizarre creature came to decapitate me, so I rose to my awkward feet and leaned against a nearby wall.

"Mommy?" the voice stuttered, young and unsure.

I looked about this surreal world. Why did that child-like voice sound familiar… recently familiar? Oxidized skeletons of metal buildings materialized out of the shadows, gargantuan. The tune she'd been singing. I recognized it, though I couldn't remember the rest of the words. Only the melody stuck with me.

"Mommy, wait for me!"

I pushed myself off the building and lurched in the direction of the voice. I felt like an outsider, though somehow connected. It didn't make sense. I sniffed the air and caught the pleasant scents of a citrusy perfume and strawberry shampoo. They were unusually strong. A normal human nose shouldn't have been able to smell them.

My bare feet mashed into the gooey sludge and I all but stumbled several times as I tried to rip them out of it. Mud also caked the side of my face, my torso, and my arms. It completely reeked. One would think the rain would wash it away. Nope. It was as if this whole place imitated a rotting gutter. I swallowed back bile and eased through a torn part of a fence. Beyond this fence, dense rolling fog and eerie shapes swayed to the recurring hum of the girl's voice. Beneath that lovely bell-like tenor, a violent snarl reverberated across the infinite enormity of this place.

"Care you know not,  
Therefore sleep,  
While I o'er you watch do keep.  
Sleep,  
pretty darling,  
Do not cry,  
And I will sing a lullaby."

Up ahead, the fog separated and a lone girl walked out into the meager pool of light that surrounded a corroded streetlamp. Her long hair tumbled over her frail shoulders in a tangled mess and her orange pajama pants sported the nasty slime of this place. Her hands kneaded at the hem of her tank top. She looked to be around the age of thirteen. That elegant chin seized my attention, and then my breath stuck in my throat.

A flash of absolute silver, curiously deep like the dusky velvet of the night sky.

"Gracie?" I choked.

She didn't hear me. Instead, she reached out to the darkness and whimpered, her short chubby fingers trembling. Her eyes concentrated on something. I strained to see what it was, but all I saw was the vacant gloom. What'd she see?

"Mommy…" her hand wavered.

I noted the trace of apprehension that inched across her face and the uneasy way she bit her lip. Ignoring the pounding in my skull, I stepped closer to her and brushed her extended wrist with my index finger. Confusion distorted her face and she looked toward me, but she never acknowledged my existence.

She couldn't see me.

Abruptly, her attention snapped back to whatever she'd been looking at. She called it her mother, but I wasn't so sure. In that barrenness where she stared, I felt a frigid disdain only Hell could summon.

"Jin…" a new voice sighed.

No one else inhabited the darkness but the young Gracie and I. My hands clenched and unclenched.

"Mother?" I whispered.

Gracie giggled and grasped at something. Then, her smile froze and her eyes rolled back. I watched in horror as she crumpled to the ground and went into violent seizures. Foam leaked from her mouth and her skin turned an alarming flushed pink, the angry red veins of her body being forced just before the surface of her translucent skin. Ancient writ I couldn't discern slithered along her neck and arms, and the crescent birthmark above her eye bled. Tears trickled down the sides of her cheeks and she wailed in agony, as if trying to force something out of her chest.

I fell to my knees and lifted her quaking body into my arms. "Gracie!"

"Keeper…" my mother's voice murmured.

"What does that mean?" I howled, cradling the adolescent girl.

"Hatred… key…"

"Who's hatred? Mother! Who's hatred?!"

"You are strong, my son."

I then realized that Gracie had stopped convulsing and I peered down at her. Her infinite orbs were clouded with a milky whiteness and her lips coiled into a malevolent grin. Searing agony suddenly invaded my body and I fell back, my head crashing to the earth. Fire laced my bones and gnawed at my flesh. I'd felt this sensation before. A long time ago, it seemed. The scar on my left arm sizzled and I shouted at the top of my lungs.

"Hatred… key…" was the last thing I heard before the pain became too great and everything dimmed away.

-

**_Wake up, sleepy head._**

_Having fun?_ I growled.

_**Loads… but it's about to get even better.**_

_Really?_

**_Oh, yes. The main thing I hate about you humans is that you have to sleep. It's such a waste of time. We pass it by toying with your dreams, though._**

_How touching…_ I deadpanned.

My body twitched as it rose from the bed. I needed a fix, _bad_. The snowy dust beckoned me from atop the little mirror and my feet shuffled over to it. The reflection of the full moon shined like a blanched jewel, drained and pallid white. With the blackness of the night surrounding it, it reminded him of a certain pair of eyes.

What importance did she pose to me? Why had both my mother and the demons called her 'keeper'? Her nightmares felt like a gigantic hole… a big emptiness. I paid no heed to the giddiness I felt when the powder filtered into my lungs and mixed with my blood. The demons found her to be important. If she were anything like me, I would've sensed it. What answers did she seek?

**_You think too much._**

_You talk too much._

**_What other friends do you have, boy?_**

_I'd rather suffer silence than your incessant chatter._

_**Isn't it close to your birthday?**_

I paused. _What about it?_

_**I have a present for you.**_

Just then, a soft rapping entered my ears. On the other side of the door, a fluttering heart twittered, and anxiety twisted in my gut.

_What the hell are you up to?_

They cackled. _**Guess someone had trouble sleeping.**_

My fears were confirmed as the thick slab of wood was opened and Xiao stood with her tiresome pigtails and her chocolate eyes bloodshot from little sleep. I could only imagine what these creatures expected to do to her.

"Jin?" she began uncertainly.

"Come in…" my voice purred.

She stepped past me, her shoulder brushing mine. I could tell the contact bothered her.

"Why are you doing this Jin?"

A cold smile warped my mouth and she jumped as I began to play with her pigtails. "You know these make you look childish."

_What are you doing?_

Hurt flickered in Ling's eyes and she stepped out of my touch. "What happened to you? You're on drugs..."

The distance between her and I was closed once again, and my hands skimmed up her arms. "A woman's shoulders are the frontline of her mystique."

She looked everywhere but my eyes. "I know you have a good soul, Jin. You're better than what you've become."

"How endearing…" My thumb traveled along her collarbone. "You should cut your hair, you know."

She set her jaw. "Stop avoiding what I'm saying."

"I'm only making a suggestion. You're more alive than those stale black pigtails."

_Stop toying with her._

She shut her eyes momentarily, lulled by the way in which my fingers massaged her neck. I felt that the energy in my body was only negative. After that dream, it seemed like the only light I had had been sucked out through my pores.

**_You should get more fun out of life. Look how this stupid little bitch is just eating out of the palm of your hand. We give you this power and how do you repay us- with resentment?_**

_I want nothing from you!_

"You know I'm right, Xiao."

Her eyes opened at my use of her nickname. "I… I…"

"It is a distraction from your beauty… and you are beautiful."

"I… I need to go." Ling breathed as she twirled out of my hands and hurried for the door.

"Remember what I said, Xiao. You're too beautiful for those pigtails."

She looked to the floor, conflicted, and then exited the room.

**_How can you be friends with such a pathetic runt? Oh, we forgot. You're one as well._**

_She has nothing to do with you._

**_She will get in our way and, if we have to waste our time with her, we might as well have a little fun._**

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**A/N:** Gracie has short chubby fingers? Yeah... she's not a beauty queen guys. And Ling cutting her hair?! You know it can only end badly. ;) Moving on... I probably gave EVERYTHING away in this chapter, but I felt that this information was needed... and it'd have been annoying if I dragged it out too long. Gah, I never thought I'd get this finished. I have such little time... and, anytime I get a good vibe going, a migraine decides to rear its ugly head (grumbles). For those who've read 'Dasvidania', I am working on it. The creative juices are just on hiatus at the moment. I hope you all enjoyed this chapter. Sorry if it's confusing in any way. I've been out of it lately. I think the ending is a little under-developed...

_SeungSeiRan:_ Hahaha, yes the sexual tension has begun! You'll never expect what's going to happen... and I hope you don't shoot me. Seriously... (cringes)

_Razer Athane: _Yeah... I didn't want Gracie to be just _taken_ with Kazama. I felt that it was sorta cliche. Also, I believe Jin's look in Tekken 6 is very unattractive. It's that frown. It doesn't suit him. I think his face has gotten a little too gaunt, too... hence, the drug use. Muwahahaha! Jin's a drug addict! Shizzam... fuckin' junkie! xDxDxD

_sponge cake 2:_ I did the eyebrow thing just for you. Now, feel special. Feel it, damn you! Hahaha. I'm not only learning Ju-Jitsu, by the way. I'm apparently learning a bit of Kempo and Judo, too. It's amazing.

_My DoRk:_ I love you, homie! I'm glad you like this, man. Do you have any ideas for drawing???

**Disclaimer:** Wha? Oh, I don't own the lullaby, either.


	12. Twisted Origin

**Made of Scars**

**Chapter 12: Twisted Origin**

**(Gracie's POV)**

My skin felt clammy and cold. My stomach growled and my hands shook. I needed sustenance, but how could you possibly find that in the dream world? Charred flower petals fell like rain and distant flames licked at the deluded grey sky. The buildings, burned and crumbling, seemed to fade within the nothingness of this place, yet they somehow remained… like some insistent fester of saddened phantoms, gathered together to not face eternity alone.

What had Jazz said? I hopped down from the corroded dumpster I'd been standing on. He'd been inside me before… I chewed on my lower lip. She'd also said something about a darkness. What had she seen in his soul? I frowned. She never said anything else about it after that. She hadn't told me everything… Why? Since when did Jasmine keep things from me?

"Sleep...  
Pretty baby,  
Do not cry,  
And I'll sing you a lullaby."

I jerked around as the cracked voice finished the verse with a haggard cackle. A hunched figure stood wrapped with rotting rags and grey matted hair slithered down her front like dried out dreadlocks. Beneath a tattered brown hood, only her chin was visible, desiccated and stretched, wrinkled and dotted with sores.

Witch.

"Who are you?" I hissed.

"Didn't your father teach you any manners, girl?" the stranger barked back.

"Who are you?" I repeated harshly.

She took three wobbly steps toward me and grasped my collar with astonishing strength. "I'm your grandmother, you ungrateful little whelp!"

Her breath reeked of some nameless filth and it washed over me with noxious totality. I coughed and yanked away from her, disgusted. "Keep your hands off me, you freak!"

She removed the hood from her face and I nearly fainted. Where her eyes should have been, scarred thick flesh replaced them. It seemed to shine in the milky light of what could only be described as daytime in this wearily twisted nightmare. Never before had I spoken to anyone in my dreams… well, only once before.

"Like what you see, little one?" She crowed.

"You're a figment of my imagination." I snapped.

She smirked, her repulsive brown and green teeth dully flickering. "Is that what the shrink told you when you were young?"

I turned and began walking to the charred metropolis. "Piss off."

I howled out in pain as I felt her grab a fistful of my hair and heave me backward. "You listen here, missy. You can't escape this. Through you, our prophecy can be fulfilled. My son has spent the last nineteen years searching for you and I will not have this be a waste."

I bared my teeth at her. "No one controls my life. You can go to Hell, you old hag!"

"We are already in Hell, my little poppet. It just needs some new scenery."

I frowned. "What is this?"

"_This_ is very real, Gracie dear. Here," she used her free hand to lift up my arm," I'll prove it to you."

Something crawled beneath the skin of my wrist and moved on down my arm. It gnawed and wriggled, sending cold shivers up my spine. Pain. It came in lazy ripples, all through my flesh. Then, my skin began to move. I wanted to scream out, but it lodged in my throat at the next sight. They burst through with ferocious intensity and tickled my flesh as they moved along, the combination of pain and light feathery touches sending my mind into a frenzy.

"What now, dearest? Do you believe in me now?" She whispered in my ear.

"Stop it." I said, struggling to keep my tears in check.

She smiled blissfully, her expression becoming distant. "At last, we've found you. So long… so long…"

Anger seared my throat and I spit in her face. "You putrid, psychotic bitch! What the hell is this all about, huh? What do you want from me?"

Her grip tightened on my wrist and she wiped away the spit, remaining silent for a few seconds. "Would you like to see how you came to be, my child." She spoke the words in a sickly sweet tone.

I shook my head. _No!_ "Wake up, Gracie! Wake up!"

She chuckled and passed her hand over the squirming maggots on my throbbing arm and they were replaced by a hideous scab. "I don't think so, dear."

A tightness settled in my chest and blinding shadow descended over my nightmare. I then found myself plummeting into oblivion, invisible hands raking across my skin, pushing my further down. I fell for what seemed like an eternity; then, I snapped my eyes open and I was standing near the edge of a clearing. Towering trees with massive draping limbs obscured my view of the meadow ahead and I no longer felt the pressure of the hag's hold on my wrist or throat. She'd vanished. I scanned my surroundings as carefully as the dark would permit. Nothing even stirred. Crickets weren't chirping and dusk birds uttered not a sound.

The silence twirled my heart into a painful knot and I inhaled slowly, trying to calm the pulse of my blood. Soft moonlight broke through the hordes of grayish green leaves and I reached out, grasping a cluster of needle-thin limbs and pushing them aside. About twenty yards in front of me, a blazing fire licked at the starry heavens. I squinted. There were several blurry figures dancing madly around the orange blaze and two others kneeling some fifteen feet away, the fire's light barely reaching them. I crept out of the forest's protection and kept close to the ground.

Faint chanting echoed in my ears and I paused, now only a few yards away; the language was unknown to me. I strained to hear anything that sounded remotely discernable. What were they speaking- Russian, maybe? I frowned again, half expecting the old hag to pop up out of nowhere and tell me.

That's when I noticed the nude silhouette sprawled out on the ground near the two kneeling forms. A chill slid down the base of my skull and glanced off my spine to the very tips of my fingers and toes. I shuddered. The ample curvature of the body's hips and chest told me that it did indeed belong to a woman. Her dark mass of hair spilled over her upturned, left shoulder in a tangled mess and her bruised wrists were bound by thick rope. I couldn't see her feet for her lithe back.

An eerie sensation inched throughout my stomach and up my throat, making me want to hurl. I knew who this woman was. I didn't have to question. Her well-rounded curves, stubby fingers, and deep brown hair practically gave it away. What had the hag said? '_Would you like to see how you came to be, my child?'_ I dug my nails into my palms.

_Mother..._

"Wake her up."

I peered at one of the stooping figures, my lips pulling back in a snarl. She might have been younger and still had her precious eyes, but I couldn't and _wouldn't_ mistaken that rough voice anywhere. Beside her, my father brushed a few strands of hair out of my mother's face and let his fingers travel down her neck and along her side, ending at her hip. Molten hatred choked my insides and I jumped to my feet, not caring what would happen to me.

"Get your filthy hands off my mother!"

No response.

My heart sank as understanding washed over me. A _memory_. This was the hag's memory and she was sharing it with me. I couldn't alter anything, couldn't save my mother. I laughed at my own stupidity. Whatever made me think I could?

The chanting died away as my father lifted her into his arms and carried her over to a flat smooth boulder near the fire. Her head dangled lifelessly against his arm and the evidence of dirty dried tears stained her cheeks, glimmering in the firelight. I swallowed.

He set her gingerly on the colossal stone and turned to the others. They bowed before him and his mother walked up to him, a beautiful dagger glinting in her outstretched hand. I stumbled forward, horrified.

"No..." my voice scarcely exceeded a whisper.

As he turned, the blade held firmly in his hand, my mother awoke. Her pale eyes flashed with panic in the amber glow, similar to the glint of the knife, and her mouth fell open in shock as she saw him. He grinned, his demonic features seeming more sadistic with every flicker of the flames, as he stepped forward and traced the tip of the dagger down her throat to the center of her chest. She trembled and shrank away, very aware of her nakedness.

My _grandmother_ began to croon a soft hymn, her face drawn out by a proud smile. The others came to link hands with her and create a circle around the rock. I ran forward, expecting to shove past them, but I simply fell through them, hitting the ground with a deafening thud. Dust and different plant particles rose in the air from my fall and I sniffled pathetically.

"Stop this!" I demanded. "Wake up! Wake up! Wake Up!"

Tried as I might, I couldn't break through the thick delusion of sleep. Somewhere in the blackness, I heard a faint cackle and I howled angrily.

"Don't touch me!" My mother's hysterical voice shook me to the core.

"Take her, Aleksei." My grandmother whispered pleasantly.

I leapt to my feet and punched at thin air as he stripped himself of his clothing and mounted the rock, his left hand already cupping my mother's quivering jaw. Everything moved so lethargically. Time froze and my mind cemented the next images permanently in my memory. I watched with detached horror as my mother snapped and spit at him while he placed each leg on an opposite side, straddling her. My skin burned with disgust as he leaned down, positioning the blade at her throat and biting into her lower lip. She hollered out and a thin rivulet of glistening red trickled down her cheek. I wanted to clamp my eyes shut, but they wouldn't obey my command.

He pressed the knife into her skin, summoning more red, and he licked it up with ravenous hunger. I balled my hands into fists and tried to control my breathing. It came out in short harsh bursts and my head succumbed to a pounding headache. Tears obscured some of my vision, but not enough to miss him stroking his own manhood against the fair skin of her stomach. Vomit slinked up the hot flesh of my throat and I caught the initial acidic taste before I puked my guts out.

Her ashamed whimpering came next... and it tore me to pieces. As he thrust roughly into her, his ugly laughter mingled glaringly with her heaving breaths. I felt numb all over and my lower lip now bled due to the increasing pressure of my clenching jaws. I don't know how long it lasted- perhaps, a millennium. I don't know when I'd been able to shut my eyes either, but the darkness was a welcoming relief to such savagery.

"Such rich history, don't you think, child?"

I clawed through the perverted memory, my rage sweltering, and as I advanced on her. "You're sick! You're evil!"

She appeared to not be phased. "Evil is a point of view, don't you think?"

I swallowed the revolting taste of bile and focused on my quaking fists. She patted my shoulder and I knocked it away.

She ignored my rude gesture and sneered wickedly, diverting to a new subject. "You've seen him already, yes? The broken one… the tainted soul… His father had been much easier to possess."

I paused, unsure why his name curled around my tongue. "Kazama?"

She sneered. "That's right, child. Don't deny your basic instinct."

I frowned in confusion. "My basic instinct?"

"Time to wake."

My head jerked toward her. "No! What does Kazama have to do with me?"

She scoffed.

"Answer me, witch!"

Her nails dug into my skin. "You are ours. You always have been. You always will be."

"No." I said lowly.

She leered and I stiffened as I heard a new, strangled voice.

"Gracie?"

I reached out on impulse. What could I be reaching for? Tears rimmed my eyes and the old hag suddenly vanished. The light darkened into a corroded night and ice encircled my heart. Faint, high-pitched screams crept along the crevices of this place and talons raked at my ankles. Before me an ugly creature appeared, a sadistic fiend. I wanted to recoil, but my body wouldn't obey me. It breathed on my fingertips and scraped its barbed tongue along my wrist.

_Déjà vu._

I trembled. "Mommy?" The word felt so alien. Why'd I said it?

Suddenly, an explosion of agony coursed through my veins and I collapsed, giving way to unremitting seizures. Foam gathered in my mouth and my skin burned as if on fire. Something welled up inside of me, forcing my bones dangerously outward and I shrieked helplessly.

"Gracie!"

_Kazama._

"Who's hatred? Mother! Who's hatred?!"

-

"Gracie, wake up."

I fought through the dark abyss of sleep and shot up to a sitting position, hyperventilating.

"Gracie?" Jasmine grabbed my shoulders, alarmed.

I hesitated, not really wanting to tell her or to yield to my tears. "I'm okay…"

Jasmine cocked her head to the side. "You looked pretty freaked out. You were also weeping in your sleep."

I shook my head. "It was nothing."

Jasmine didn't believe me, but she chose not to press either. It didn't take a brain surgeon to know why I bolted up out of bed. Bad dreams tended to do that every time. I rubbed the back of my neck and looked out the window. Darkness still held fast to the velvet sky.

"What time is it?"

"Too early," she replied as she got up and stretched. "You woke me when you cried out."

I cast my eyes down, studying the shadowed bed sheet. "Don't worry about it, Jazz."

She sat back down beside me. "Secrets could end up killing you."

I turned to her. It felt so odd wanting to keep this from her. I just couldn't bear to tell her how my father brutalized and raped my mother. I glanced back out the window and sighed.

"Some secrets are better left unsaid."

She stared at me. "Don't keep it in for too long. This is a dangerous game we're playing, Grace."

I lay back onto my pillow and gazed at the ceiling as Jasmine began to rummage around for a clean set of clothes. The digital clock beside our bed read '4:30'. Thomas should be arriving soon.

"Thomas will be here in a few minutes."

I smirked. Our innate connection to each other did have a tendency to weird me out at times, but the fact that she was my best friend made up for it. The closer she became to someone, the more she could discern their future, so to speak. It didn't happen very often and different elements could cloud the outcome, but she'd saved my tail too many times for me to doubt her.

"Then, I suppose you can wish me luck."

She snorted. "I need that luck just as much as you do."

I chuckled. "I'll bet."

She rolled her eyes and walked into the bathroom. "He's just as mad at me as he is at you."

Twenty minutes later, we descended one of the staircases, me in front and Jasmine tagging behind. Only a few participants waited in the large foyer. The sun hadn't even fully risen over the horizon yet. When we reached the bottom, the vermilion haired oriental started our way, an arrogant swagger marking his stride. _What the hell did he want? _I noted Jasmine blush as soon as she spotted him. He smirked as soon as he saw this, his sole attention on her, and winked. Her cheeks turned to a rosy red and her lower lip began worrying between her teeth.

My protectiveness for her nagged at me and I scowled at him. He completely ignored me and initiated a conversation with her. He had good English, though his accent skewed some of his sentences.

"Hello again." He grinned.

Jasmine ground her toe into the carpet. "Hi… I… I forgot your name…"

He chortled. "It's Hwoarang."

I could tell that she wanted to try and pronounce it, but didn't want to make a fool of herself. That, at least, made me smile a tiny bit.

"We never finished our conversation over Shakespeare."

Jasmine's eyes lit up. "Hamlet… We were discussing Hamlet."

I inwardly sighed. All one has to do to win her over was chat about Shakespeare or true love. In three seconds, you'd have her hook, line, and sinker. This in itself made me want to tear the roguishly egotistical peacock's head off. I refrained from doing so and just crammed my hands in my jean pockets.

My eyes scanned the room and I shifted my weight from one foot to the other. Near the opposite staircase stood a coffee-skinned man with white hair, a unique scar in the shape of an 'X' disfiguring the skin between his eyebrows. Dark shades masked his gaze and his expression remained blank. I watched him for a moment longer, curious, then gazed back at Jasmine and this 'Hwoarang'. They weren't talking anymore and Hwoarang was glaring pointedly at me.

I mirrored the glare and crossed my arms. "If you have a problem, then spit it out."

He cocked an eyebrow. "What's the deal with you and Kazama?"

"I don't even know the guy."

"That's not what it looked last night." He said brusquely.

"Do you think I care how you see things? You don't know me or my history, so shove off."

His lips pulled back in a snarl and he tramped off, holding his retort on the tip of his tongue. Jasmine peered through her screen of chestnut hair at him and I looked to her, shaking my head. She shrugged shyly and let out a nervous giggle.

I curled my arm around her shoulders. "You can be too cute sometimes."

"What's that mean?" She murmured.

"It means you're gorgeous and a coy flirt: a dodgy combination."

She smacked my side. "Whatever…"

"Okay," I snickered. "Just don't get mad at me when I have to stomp a mud hole in his ass."

Out of the blue, the main doors burst open and an absolutely feral Thomas Miller stepped in, snow adhering to his disheveled hair and his shoes. My heart stuttered and paused for several seconds as he caught sight of us. These were the times I wished I had the ability to become invisible. His eyes glowed like vicious flames and I gave a feeble wave. His jaw clenched and I wanted to slam my forehead into a wall. What kind of idiot waves at someone they disobeyed? I needed my head examined.

"I think we're really in for it." Jasmine said in a strained whisper.

I made a face. "You think?"

She stuck her tongue out at me and I had a comeback in mind, but Thomas' close proximity iced my lips shut. I'd forgotten how quickly he could eliminate the distance between him and his target(s). I drank up his tight frown and his bugging eyes. He looked ready to commit mass murder.

"Hey daddy," I smiled weakly.

His eye twitched. "Don't "_hey daddy_" me, Gracie Elizabeth. We're going home."

I frowned. "I can't leave."

I didn't just want to stay for answers. Why else would I want to stay?

Thomas gripped my wrist. "This is not the time. We're going home and that's the end of it."

Until now, I hadn't recognized the mysterious rubber band that held me here, wrapped snuggling around me and some blurred silhouette. The liquid smirk of this shadow whispered to me, promising answers, promising serenity, promising that the nightmares would go away.

_Jin Kazama._

What did we have in common? What was our connection? Surely Thomas knew. Of course, he did. He'd always known.

"I'm staying Thomas."

He pulled me toward him, his eyes softening. "Please, Gracie, listen to me. You don't know what is about to happen."

"Then tell me." I hissed.

He closed his eyes and exhaled, preparing to speak.

"Mr. Miller, I'm glad you've decided to join us."

All eyes looked to the balcony above. Jin Kazama, flanked by the deadly blonde and a Brazilian male, moved down the stairs, his sleek button-up shirt catching the light. I resisted the need to roll my eyes at the extravagant apparel and focused on Thomas' face instead. He appeared older, his lips hugged by deep lines and his eyes dismal.

"We were just leaving." he said evenly.

Kazama sighed. "That's too bad."

Jasmine and I noticed Alexandersson slipping behind us with a group of five or more men brandishing guns. I grabbed her hand and laced my fingers around her own. She glanced at me, her lower lip pinched between her teeth and her eyes wide. Thomas hadn't taken his gaze off of Kazama.

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**A/N:** Bah! They deleted my stories 'Masochistic Tease' and 'Live for Me'. I've got them saved somewhere. I'll probably try and upload 'em again. Anyhow, sorry it's taken me ages to update. First I got writer's block, and then I got extremely busy- five weeks of going through some boring academy to become a Correctional Officer for a women's prison. Also, I've worked on the plotline. It was already fantastic, but I had to tie up a few loose ends. I hate plotlines that don't have any logical answers for some of the reader's questions due to the obvious twists left by the writer. I'm a perfectionist. What can I say? I _really_ hope this makes up for my long absence. I've worked on it for a weeks, now, never quite liking how it'd turned out. Thanks to all who've reviewed. You're amazing. ;)

**Disclaimer: **Why am I still putting this here? ... Just for the hell of it maybe...


	13. Eerie Emptiness

**Made of Scars**

**Chapter 13: Eerie Emptiness**

**(Jin's POV)**

"I see you've caused some trouble with my guards." My voice purred as my eyes caught sight of Lars.

The man looked fit to kill and his eyes were positioned solely on Thomas. Thomas, on the other hand, had his piercing orbs on me and they weren't deviating. A blind hatred leached from them like a festering sore. There was something behind that loathing, too. Was it _protectiveness_? He felt I—well; the dark entities inside of me were a danger to Gracie. He loved her, dearly…

**_… But she is ours_**, they snickered.

"I want no quarrel with anyone." Thomas said firmly. "I just want to take my girls and go home."

**_Too late_**, they snarled. **_Too late!_**

"It's already begun." My pitch turned icy and Alexandersson stepped forward, his lips forming a thin line.

Then, out of the blue, Gracie rushed toward him, surprising him into action, and it happened in a matter of a few seconds. Gracie maneuvered behind him while ducking a powerful roundhouse and took out one of his knees with a downward kick. With one hand, she blocked a punch and, with the other, she looped it around his neck and had him in a choke hold. He quickly went for the pressure point near her elbow and she released him, only to switch her Jujitsu stance into that of Capoeira and gifted him with a flurry of winding kicks. He was able to block the first two, but found the floor swiftly with her last three blows.

She'd moved so elegantly and with such haste. No one spoke and Lars lay spread-eagle on the posh carpet, his manhood deflated. Everyone's attention focused on Gracie, the guards far too surprised to even push their guns into her face, and she blushed wildly.

Thomas moved in front of her and concentrated on Alexandersson. The lieutenant moved blearily to his feet and wiped a stream of blood that trickled down his chin. He glared resentfully at Gracie, not even acknowledging Thomas, and took a step toward her.

My voice stopped him. "I'll say it again, _Gracie_. It's a shame you aren't competing in the tournament."

She glowered up at me, her earlier adrenaline and embarrassment gone, and cocked an eyebrow. "It is a shame, because I'd love to mangle that handsome face of yours."

There was an innate fear in her voice, despite the fact that she tried to mask it with vehemence and distaste. In her eyes, I could see something birthing... an awareness perhaps. I felt a strange pull toward her and it wasn't only directed at me. The creatures purred contently as they suckled at her energy, lapping up her scent, her strength, her… I paused in my thoughts and started searching for it. How had I missed it before? My psyche stretched and slithered around her, hunting in that eerie emptiness where her aura should have been.

Where was her soul?

Then, the fiends suddenly writhed and clawed, and I sensed the familiar presence. Near the far window where only shadows dwelled, one red eye glowed maliciously. Father. I could hear him chuckle quietly in the darkness and he stepped forward, letting the little bit of golden light slide over his snobbish white suit and shiny black shoes.

**_Byleth…_**

My father grinned coolly, his one dark eye flickering, but I ignored it. There were two other auras hiding in the darkness behind him. Nina stepped up beside me, her gaze on the shapely silhouette inclined against the wall.

_Anna Williams._

**_And the other_**, they prompted.

_Bruce Irvin._

His alligator-skinned trench coat hugged his bulging muscles and his platinum chain glinted in the muted lighting. Anna walked up next to him, sashaying flirtatiously in her black and red snake dress.

"In time," my voice whispered to Nina.

She squared her shoulders and proceeded down the closest staircase; Eddy remained near me, his eyes avoiding the beautiful Brazilian lingering near Hwoarang. She stared forcefully at him, trying desperately to steal his attention. The demons chortled callously and I turned into the corners of my mind. Christie Monteiro and I had become fast friends since the fourth tournament. Near the end of the fifth, before I'd completely succumbed to this hell, I'd pushed her away, along with Ling, Julia, Lei, and Wang… my friends…

Alexandersson caught my gaze, his expression strained. He wanted to preserve his honor, which Gracie had so effortlessly taken away, and also tear into Thomas Miller. My head shook and, though it infuriated him, he obeyed and did not attack. Instead, he signaled his men to follow and they exited through the front doors to do some more patrolling.

**_He'll take it out on Thomas later._**

_But you won't let him touch, Gracie..._

_**Neither will you**_, they leered.

--

A few hours later, everyone had gathered in the dining hall. This time, Thomas yanked Gracie away before she'd had the time to sit beside me. Disappointment had flashed in her bright eyes. Hwoarang still found his seat beside her friend and struck up an immediate conversation with her, making Gracie's only partner Thomas. The two stayed silent for the majority of the time; then, Thomas said something that made Gracie's face contort into an enraged frown and she shot up from her chair and found another far away from him. He then looked pointedly at me.

**_He's getting rather annoying._**

I overlooked their malevolent chatter and studied the people sitting alongside me. Ling Xiaoyu picked nervously at her food, her eyes focused on the silverware in her hand, and a dazzling woman of unknown origin wordlessly surveyed all her opponents.

**_Zafina!_**

Her head suddenly snapped in my direction and her dusky orbs glinted cautiously.

_She'd heard…_

"So, Xiao, have you considered what I'd said?"

My thought pattern broke as Xiaoyu glanced timidly at me and twirled her pigtails uncertainly between her fingers. Zafina looked back and forth between us and went back to slowly nibbling on her food. She wanted me dead. Her aura reeked of it, though she wanted it for a good reason.

_Leave Xiao alone._

**_You should have known better than to let anyone close to you after you found out what you are. Your friends are assets to us… expendable assets…_**

"I…" she looked to Julia Chang who sat a few seats away. "Jin… you're still you. You're good." Her voice was barely strong enough to hear in the colossal, virtually quiet room.

I felt my boot touch her leg and she jumped thrown off kilter by the action. She looked at Wang Jinrei who sat near the middle of the table and he looked back, his expression grave. My heart twisted mournfully and I raged against my imprisonment, ripping at my muscles, my bones, and my brain... and not making a dent. I wanted free damn it! I wanted to shield my friends from me. It's a funny thing, though. Misery loves company. Either way, whether I'd known all this would've happened or not, I still would've held tightly to my comrades. I still would've put them in danger and possibly doomed them all.

**_Selfish bastard! _**They laughed.

I grabbed at their black, smoky forms, irate. _I want to just shred you both to pieces!_

**_Ah, anger and fury!_**

My plate unexpectedly dashed off the table and smashed onto the ground. Everyone fell silent, including my captors. I sensed my blood growing hotter and my pulse quickening. My heart seemed weightless and I felt wonderfully numb.

Her voice, sweet as any bird song, wafted through the stagnant atmosphere. _My little Jin, they've found her. Protect the key._

The pieces of my shattered plate began to levitate and twirl harmlessly in the air. Was it me doing this? It wasn't the creatures? They snarled in the confines of my mind and raked their talons along my skull. I couldn't feel the pain. It passed through me as though I were a perforated slab of glass.

I then caught Gracie's rapt stare and found her normally luminous eyes to be a strange and inky blue, almost black. She appeared unseeing. Her blushing lips hung open and her brows were screwed together in confusion, yet her eyes saw nothing. Then, in them, I gazed upon a great precipice. No color seeped from her heart, but somehow, she retained such red hot passion, such fire. I knew her… didn't I?

_**He's finally catching on.**_

_How do I know her, then?_ I snarled.

Without warning, the illusion splintered and my plate crashed back down to the floor. At first, I thought I saw blood seeping from its shining slivers, but as I looked again, I only saw a ruined plate and splattered food.

My mother's presence was gone and Gracie appeared unchanged by the peculiar event. Had she even realized what she'd done? I doubted it. _Did_ she do it? Why, when I'd looked into her eyes, did I feel like I was looking into Hell? It'd felt so cold and forlorn, so dim and heavy. Did she suffer nightmares like me? My heart jumped at the thought.

**_Does she now?_**

_Stop toying with me._

**_You want her. Admit it, boy._**

_I don't even know her._

**Stop lying to yourself.**

_Who is she?_

**_She's Gracie Elizabeth Miller._**

I growled. _Sarcasm doesn't answer my question._

**_"Sleep,  
pretty baby,  
Do not cry,  
And I'll sing you a lullaby."_**

That's when I realized. _You're trying to distract me._

They fell quiet and a sharp pain slithered down my back. _**It just takes a thought, boy, just a thought. We could lay out your so-called friends and have them drowning in their mothers' feces. We've already warned you of this... twice now. There won't be a next time.**_

_They're dead either way._ I deadpanned. _It's this key, isn't it?_

Their deafening roars quaked up my bones.**_ It makes no difference._** One of them hissed. **_She'll be out of our way soon enough, anyway._**

_She?_

--

Past a pair of ornate, double doors in the throne room, down a wide winding staircase of stone, everyone waited for the sport to begin. Their whispers echoed throughout the massive coliseum and the coldness of the underground pricked at my skin. After the third tournament, Heihachi had built this cavernous shithole because he felt more at home I suppose. He should, since six feet under is where he belonged.

Lars, Nina, and Eddy sat in the three chairs adjacent to mine, their expressions unreadable. The only one who didn't fear me was Alexandersson. It didn't take the demons to tell me we were related. He looked a lot like Kazuya besides the blonde hair and minor features that gave away his Swedish descent. He, however, was ignorant of our relation.

Xiao looked up at me from a few rows down at my right, her jaw clenched and her eyes glassy. Julia saw her looking at me and pulled her attention back to the conversation Steve and Hwoarang were having. Once Ling was absorbed in their prattle, Julia glanced back at me and shook her head, a sad look in her eyes.

My father sat at the opposite side of the coliseum, his arms bent with his elbows resting on his knees and his chin set between his folded hands. Anna Williams stood a few yards away, her arms crossed and her back against the stone wall. Heihachi sat alone and he sported the same bitter expression he'd worn since I'd met him on my fifteenth birthday. Lili Rochefort fidgeted lazily with her knee-high black boots and traced the intricate design on her silvery, sea green skirt.

Below the squirming overcrowded stands, a halo of black soil surrounded a white platform. Old blood, now an ugly brown, sprayed across its surface in various places and four flagpoles with red banners jutted out from its corners. They bared the yoke of my cursed blood—my scar, the stain of the Mishima lineage.

**_Time for a speech!_** They chirped roughly.

The multitude of fighters and gamblers became silent as I rose from my chair, my face marred by this permanent sneer. "Once again, welcome to the Sixth Iron Fist Tournament. May the best fighter live. Let the competition begin!"

Cheers erupted from the bookies, but the ghostly silence remained with the participants. This Tekken would be like no other. Never before have so many lives been at stake. Not even my own grandfather would be so greedy or so cruel. He'd at least give them a chance to run first, get a head start.

_Great speech…_ I bit sarcastically.

**_Thank you. _**

"First fight…" My voice thundered.

_No…_

"… Christie Monteiro vs. Eddy Gordo!"

_Christie…_

_**You knew this was coming. We told you we'd find a way to make you suffer, make you pay for your insolence.**_

They purposely drug my eyes to Christie's bewildered face. Despite being in this gloom, her lovely sun-kissed skin glowed and her russet hair looked to have swallowed all the day's light in its stands. She sat motionless with her ripened lips hanging open and her chocolate eyes wide. The color had drained from her face and her hands shook.

My soul cried out in pain and the fiends danced about impatiently. Days before, Eddy Gordo had learned that, if he didn't fight her, I'd tear her apart. To save her from _my_ wrath, he'd battle her; he'd lay a harming hand on her to _save_ her from my ruthlessness.

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**A/N:** Once again, sorry it took so long. Life has gotten really hectic. I had finally found a way to start this thing. It was driving me mad. I kept starting over and over. I feel it's a little jumbled... It moved pretty fast, too. That was a new one for me. I normally split up chapters like this one, but I felt that it worked better this way. Also, I know it's shorter than the last installment. I just felt that, if I wrote anymore, it'd be dragging it out too long... That might just be me, though. I need a beta for this lol. Anyway, I've been really into the song '_Guilty_' by Anna Tsuchiya on the _Resident Evil: Degeneration_ soundtrack. I hope you enjoyed this chapter and please review!

_SeungSeiRan_: I wrote that little Christie bit for you. I hope you liked it. ;P

**Disclaimer:** I don't even own a decent pair of shoes, let alone Jin Kazama, Kazuya Mishima, Steve Fox, or Hwoarang... Gah, bunch of damn hotties....... bitches....

Oh, wait! I love this one! "I'm no meteorologist, but I'm pretty sure it's rainin' bitches." Who said that?! Cleveland from Family Guy! BAYUM! That episode rocked!

P.S We need some good Feng Wei fanfics... hint hint, wink wink, nudge nudge! ;D


	14. A Moth to a Flame

**Made of Scars**

**Chapter 14: A Moth to a Flame**

**(Gracie's POV)**

Thomas watched the girl, Christie Monteiro, shuffle down the steps, her expression crushed. I pulled my hoodie tighter around my chest and shivered. God, it was cold down here. I looked over at Jasmine and she mouthed an apology. As we'd been entering the arena, Hwoarang had snatched her away before she could argue. Thomas didn't even notice it, his attention solely on Kazama.

The other opponent, Eddy Gordo, rose from his seat behind Kazama and proceeded down to the platform, his eyes avoiding Monteiro. I slid down into my seat, suddenly feeling an alien pair of eyes burning into my back. My shoulder accidently bumped Thomas' arm and knocked him out of his stupor. He stared down at me, his jaw tight. I ignored him.

"What's wrong?"

I shrugged apathetically and turned farther away from him.

"Gracie…"

I sighed. "Dad what's going on? If you don't give me something, I'll go to someone who will." I glared back at him, sarcasm lacing my next statement. "I think I've already said this."

He attempted to hide the furtive glance he threw Kazama and I groaned.

"Look… it's… complicated… and…"

"Yeah, I'm sure." I snapped. "That's a given considering you can't disclose anything."

Pain swam in his eyes and he inhaled slowly. "I love you Gracie Elizabeth…"

"Stop trying to protect me!" I interjected hotly.

"I'd rather keep you ignorant than have them find you." He retorted sharply.

"Them?"

Before he could answer, Alexandersson walked up to us. He hid his disdain fairly well, but not completely. Thomas stood up immediately, but Alexandersson raised his hand and pointed at me. I looked from him to my father, and then to the referee that stepped up to the battling opponents. Monteiro's stance appeared shaky and awkward.

"Mr. Kazama would like to speak with you."

I grabbed Thomas' arm before he could speak and rose to my feet. Thomas looked back at me and shook his head. I nodded once and shoved passed him. He reached out to seize my arm and I yanked it away. I was still sore about what he'd said at breakfast. I wasn't attracted to Kazama. The man came across as an over-sized, flashy peacock with shaggy, maggot-like eyebrows. I grinned evilly at the comparison. His outrageously upward hair made her want to roll her eyes, too. Supercilious, hoity-toity, meat-headed, silver-spooned asshole.

I huffed and whispered under my breath. "Side-show freak…"

The ass kisser's head twitched slightly as we walked on, but he said nothing to me. He'd heard, and he could've easily thought I'd been talking about him. I cocked an eyebrow. Why didn't he confront me about it?

Once we'd reached the balcony, the fight had already begun. Monteiro seemed reluctant to attack Gordo and stayed on the defensive. I momentarily wondered why until Kazama's deep velvety tone caught my attention.

"Misses Miller," he smiled as he took his seat.

I crossed my arms. "Mr. Kazama."

His smile broke into a cheeky grin. "Have a seat." He indicated to the chair beside him.

I eyed it as if it were a medieval torture device.

Kazama chuckled. "I won't bite… unless you want me to." The tail end of the declaration was almost a mental whisper.

I growled. "You go on ahead, you pompous son of a bitch, and I'll rip out your tongue."

The air got denser and I noticed the blonde woman sitting beside him. She stared at me full on, her glacial orbs indecipherable. Did I sense a small amount of respect, though? After the realization of what I said hit me, I shot Kazama a wary look. He simply patted the seat, his dark eyes twinkling.

"Please sit, _Gracie_."

The way he pronounced my name made me shiver and I instantly hated him for it. I kept my arms wrapped snuggly around my chest and remained there. Alexandersson moved passed me and took his own seat. I suddenly felt alone. I had no one at my back. It was only me… That'd never happened before. A cold sensation settled in my stomach and my heart twittered faintly in my chest. I was afraid. Kazama and the woman both saw the understanding pass through my eyes and I blushed in shame. Exhaling in defeat, I awkwardly sat down in the chair.

"You had some questions for me."

I focused on the fight instead of the unexpected jolt that traveled through my veins, or the hundreds of frenzied butterflies colliding into each other in my stomach. _Damn it!_ His scent was driving me insane. Why hadn't I felt this when I'd been next to him at that first dinner? My thigh muscles quivered and I tapped my feet frantically, trying to ignore it.

Gordo landed a powerful kick to Monteiro's clavicle and she slammed onto the mat. I could've sworn I heard her head crack against it. They were both Capoeira fighters, skilled ones at that. I cringed and looked away, only to be confronted by Kazama's penetrating gaze.

"Questions," I said hoarsely. "Yeah…"

"Are you alright?" He asked.

I glowered at him. "I am fine."

He laughed at my hostility. "Are you sure?"

My back straightened and I set my jaw. "It's not like you even care. So, why are you asking?"

Kazama feigned offense. "Don't insult me, Misses Miller. Despite my financial rank and polished appearance, I do have a heart."

"Some heart you have," I scoffed. "So going around and killing others, taking over governments, and holding _blood sports_—this is your way of showing that you have a heart?"

His stare forced its way passed my eyes and into my soul. I swallowed thickly and averted my gaze back to the fight. It seemed now that Monteiro was on the offensive, winding and wielding her legs in an assault of kicks.

"How are we connected?" I said finally.

When I looked back at him, his dark eyes appeared several shades lighter and his grinning lips, though cruelly frowning somehow, parted slightly. My brow puckered in puzzlement, which seemed to break him out of his daze.

"Your mother had ran, you know? She didn't want them to find you."

"What do you know about my mother?" I snarled.

He chortled. "Your blood… just a hollow sack of flesh… cursed blood… your father's blood."

My body went rigid. "My father's blood?"

"Ah," he whispered teasingly. "The gate keeper…"

My breath caught in my throat. "What did you say?"

"Your mother had loved you very much. She'd fled to the mountains to evade them." He stroked his chin. "It's odd isn't it? How could she love a product of your father's brutality?"

My heart contorted with pain and I bit my nails into my palms. _Bastard!_

A scream suddenly exploded above the cheers and I turned to see Monteiro hit the mat with a sickening thud, unconscious and bleeding. The referee stepped up beside Gordo and grabbed his hand. The crowd howled and whistled as he was announced the victor. I caught a furtive glance he gave Monteiro's crumpled body. Regret, sorrow, and anger painted his features.

That's when it struck me. The way he'd coveted her with his eyes. He loved her. Why'd he gone through with the fight, then? Kazama stood up and walked to the edge of the balcony. I glimpsed the blonde woman gifting him an icy glare and I nibbled on my lower lip. Did everyone want him dead?

He waited for Monteiro's body to be taken off the platform before he declared the next match: Ling Xiaoyu vs. Kazuya Mishima.

The mob grew silent and a few gasps hissed across the vast expanse of the stadium. All eyes fell on the man that stepped effortlessly down the stairs, his curiously similar crop of upward hair snatching my attention. He wore a weathered pair of white gi pants and a massive scar crawled along his torso. I could see it clearly despite him being on the other side of the room. He walked like a killer, a ruthless man suffering no emotion. I shivered and pulled my knees up to my chest, wedging the balls of my feet between my backside and the edge of the chair.

His challenger, a frail looking Chinese doll with pigtails, walked unsteadily down to the ring of black soul. There she paused and kneeled in prayer. Mishima had already made it to the platform and he crossed his arms arrogantly and watched her with a cold mockery. He looked so much like… Hadn't Thomas said something about Kazama being the bastard son of a Mishima… Kazuya Mishima?

My eyes fell back on Kazama and my stomach lurched. I steadied my breathing and tried to focus on the way the stone work of the gargoyles leaning over the sides of the marble pillars was both frightening and lovely at the same time. They felt unusually familiar... and did one of them just wink at me? I shook my head and hugged my legs closer to my chest.

As the Chinese girl rose and took her place in front of Mishima, Kazama strode back and sat beside me. His shoulder brushed mine and I shrunk away. He noticed this and peeked at me from the corners of his eyes. I glared at him through a curtain of my dark brown hair and I could've sworn he just stuck out his tongue. My heart leapt into my throat and my skin tingled. What was his deal? I scowled. Why did I _care_?

Summoning my wits, I spoke as coolly as I could manage. "How do you know these things about my mother?"

"You love Thomas."

It wasn't a question and I tucked the wild mass of hair behind my ear. "What's it to you? And, why do you continually evade my questions?"

"He's the only family you've ever known, along with Jasmine Bledel."

My eyes hardened and my voice cracked. "You stay away from them."

"It's not me you have to worry about." He sneered.

"What the hell do you want?"

He faced me fully, pushing his gaze into mine. "Isn't it obvious?"

I gulped. "Not entirely…"

He inclined his head until our noses were practically touching. "You're not that dim-witted."

My breath came out unevenly and my mind iced over in fear and… something else. "I am not fully aware of what you're getting at."

"You're toying with me." He whispered flippantly.

I ignored the abrupt urge to bite into his lip and rip it off, and turned away from him. "I think it's evident that I'm not in a very playful mood, or are you just that dense?"

Kazama didn't respond right away and I settled on watching the present fight. Xiaoyu moved groggily through her punches and was quickly caught off guard. Mishima grasped her wrist and crashed the heel of his foot across her face. She stumbled backward and tripped over her own feet. Before she could rise, he leapt into the air and came down with a devastating fist. Xiaoyu groaned pathetically. She seemed dazed, hypnotized by some baleful shadow. I looked down at my hands in awe and perplexity. How did I know that?

**_Annoying creature..._**

I jerked at the sound of the rasping voices and a wintry freeze engulfed my insides. Where'd that come from? I jerked at the sound of the rasping voices and a wintry freeze engulfed my veins. Where'd that come from? Was Kazama leering at me again? His dusky orbs flickered and I suppressed the alluring need to spoon his eyeballs out. I ground my teeth into my tongue. What was wrong with me? Why was I even attracted—

_No!_

_No I was not!_

I needed to get out of here.

It didn't take long for Mishima to defeat this little China doll. Her slender limbs trembled and her once perfect pigtails were now a gnarled mess. She walked off the platform before the referee made it to Kazuya to lift his hand in victory and started up the stone steps. She didn't go and sit back in her seat. Instead, she left the coliseum. I got up, intent on following her. Kazama's tone stopped me, but only for a moment.

"No more questions?"

I glared over my shoulder. "Nope."

He looked down at his shoes, then back at me through his long lashes, and a crooked smirk filched his lips. "Take heed of your night terrors."

Surprise colored my expression and I whipped around and sauntered after Xiaoyu. Thomas gazed at me cautiously and I shake my head. He mouthed an "Are you okay?" and I nodded. Jasmine popped up beside me unexpectedly and scared me half to death. I did everything I could to keep from tumbling down the stairs like an idiot.

"I'm sorry!" She said hastily.

I shrugged and tried to keep up with Xiaoyu. "Don't worry about it."

"I just... I'm sorry, Gracie. I... He yanked me away before I could say 'no' and..."

"Jazz," I barked a little too harshly. "Look, it's really okay. I... I'm sorry about being short." I paused in my walk and looked at her. "Just stay with me and don't worry about what you call 'ditching' me. It's no big thing."

She tilted her head quizzically and hurried to stay up with me. "What's going on?"

I pointed toward Xiaoyu, who was now exiting up the wide spiraling stairs to the throne room. "Something is wrong with her... I don't know. I just felt that I needed to follow her."

Jasmine scowled thoughtfully at her. "Her _color _is... depleting. Something is feeding off of her."

"What do you mean, Jazz?"

"Gracie, we both know that there is something very wrong here. Why did you go up to Kazama?"

I blushed, remembering the sensations I'd felt sitting next to him. "I needed answers."

Jasmine took a breath before she responded. "You sure about that, Grace? I saw the way you reacted to him, the way you looked at him... like a moth to a flame."

I averted my eyes to the stone steps as we ascended them. "I... I need to stay away from him, Jazz."

She took my hand in hers. "I know."

When we entered the cold and silent throne room, Xiaoyu had vanished. Jasmine halted and looked about the room, her fingers trembling. I glanced at her and she pointed to the revoltingly lavish armchair, the king's chair. Sitting in the chair was the elder man with demonic white horns for hair. His wintry black eyes evaluated us callously and I turned my nose up at him. He responded to the action by rising from the chair and striding passed us, stopping briefly to glower at me.

_What the hell?_

After he'd departed through the doors leading back to the coliseum, Jasmine just about ripped my arm off as she dragged me out the room. In the foyer, two guards stood examining us pryingly. I waved them off, hoping they wouldn't press farther, and we jogged up the closest flight of stairs. The door to the East Wing lay on the opposite side of the gallery.

Had Xiaoyu gone this way?

Presumably hearing my thoughts, Jasmine dipped her head in agreement and we slipped through the door. On the other side, I felt the rapid sting of an invisible slap. It sent cutting waves down my spine and my eyes watered. Something was in the air.

"Sulfur," Jasmine said vacantly.

"I smell it, too."

Down the corridor, the unpleasant stink only got stronger, so much stronger. It stabbed at my eyes and curled within my nostrils. I held my nose and did my best not to collapse to my knees and vomit. Where had this come from? Had she busted several cartons of rotten eggs? I peeked over at Jasmine. She had her nose pinched and her other hand feeling across the wall. The hallway stretched on for about another twenty rooms. Then, the rooms continued up after another flight of stairs, opening to the third floor.

"She's up on the third floor." Jasmine coughed.

I swallowed the repulsive taste if the air and winced. "How do you know?"

She touched her heart. "It's beating way too fast. It's struggling."

Mopping the wetness from beneath my nose and eyes, I forced my legs to accelerate. "Come on."

Jasmine gripped my arm and jogged wobbly beside me. The stench hadn't lessened, but both her and I were growing accustom to it. I scoffed at the thought. Who could really get accustom to this suffocating odor. On the third floor, matching statues of cruel monstrosities lined the hallway. Their ugly faces were the embodiment of depravity. I could taste something else in the air now... blood. My stomach churned as I felt it coagulate in my moth. Its coppery tang drown my throat and I gagged. Jasmine stared at me, surprised.

"Blood…" was all I could summon from my throat.

She nodded and looked ahead. Her eyes widened and she pointed to a door hanging open on the left about ten feet away. As we crept closer, we heard the faint sound of crying. I peered carefully into the room and found the Chinese girl sitting on her bed, stripped down to her panties and bra, facing toward the headboard. Her chaotic pigtails were now gone and her black hair lay pitifully just below her shoulder blades.

"The gate keeper… mother of abomination…"

My back stiffened at her shaky words and I gasped at the gory knife she angled above her head. I darted forward and knocked the blade away from her before she could bring it back down into her chest. We both toppled to the floor and I could feel the wet warm fluid staining my clothes and covering my right arm, which was buried under her upper body.

She looked up at me with glassy brown eyes and I didn't know what to say. Jasmine rushed to us and it appeared to register in her head. She suddenly bolted upright and kicked Jasmine into a nightstand. I hurried to my feet and tried to dodge her flurry of wild punches; I ended up catching one in the mouth and hissed. She screamed unintelligibly as I quickly snatched her wrist in retaliation and twisted it. I then maneuvered to her rear and took her legs out from under her.

"Relax," I said harshly. "We weren't going to hurt you!"

She paused for a moment, then moaned weakly. "Make them stop. Make them go away... disappear..."

I stared at her heartbreaking form, stunned. Down her stomach, angry red lines teared blood. Near her collar bone she'd etched some type of ancient text into her skin and on her thigh; a hideous deep lesion crawled all the way to her kneecap.

"What were you trying to do?" I asked stupidly.

"He said my hair should be shorter." She babbled. "I was going to cut it, make it pretty."

Jasmine limped up beside me. "What's wrong with her?" She grimaced.

"I thought your physic powers would tell us." I joked flatly.

She frowned at me and took a look at the gibbering girl. "I'm not all-knowing, you smartass."

Her use of profanity caught me off guard and I gaped at her. "You cussed. The almighty Jasmine who never steps out of line or speaks boorishly to anyone, has just cussed."

She blushed and glowered at me. "Come on. We need to get her some help."

I speedily reset my concentration back to Xiaoyu, but didn't forget Jasmine's little slipup and filed it away inside my head. "Let's get something wrapped around her."

Jasmine hastily grabbed the thick blanket on her bed and we lifted the frail girl up. She still jabbered on, obviously unaware that we were both gawking at her as we draped the coverlet over her shoulders. She grabbed at it, pulling it closer to her body, and began to hum. I instantly recognized the tune.

"What's she doing?" Jasmine asked, looking to me.

I turned Xiaoyu to me. "Where have you heard that before?"

She chewed on her lip like a nervous child. "It's your lullaby. He'd sang it to you."

I scowled in confusion. "What do you mean?"

She abruptly pulled the cover over her head and howled in fear. "Make them go away!"

I gripped one arm while Jasmine got the other and we started leading her to the foyer. She fumbled down the stairs, still begging no one in particular to go away. As we came through the door and turned to trek down the last staircase, the guards ran up and stopped us.

"What the hell is going on?"

I glowered at them. "She needs medical attention."

"Obviously," one of them barked.

"Then fuckin' snap to it." I roared back.

He looked ready to beat me to a pulp, when—

"Stand down."

The guards looked ready to shit themselves at the sound of the rough masculine voice. I fixed my eyes on the owner and my hair stood on the back of my neck. Terror and rage boiled in my veins and I pulled Xiaoyu closer to me. Jasmine seemed afraid to look into his eyes for she kept her eyes glued to his chest or to his feet.

"Ye—yes sir." They said unsurely, almost like they couldn't deny his authority.

Xiaoyu wept as she was torn from Jasmine's and my grip. I glared at them and they now appeared skittish, not meeting my eyes. Jasmine moved close to me and we watched as the Chinese doll was led down the stairs and through a plain door on the right.

Silence fell over the room and I stared at Kazuya. He grinned at me and started up the stairs toward us. I stepped protectively in front of Jasmine.

"What are you expecting?" He chuckled once he'd reached us.

"You tell me." I snapped.

"Tsk, tsk, tsk… I wouldn't harm you."

My eyes followed him as he moved to the left of us. "And, why should I believe that?"

His one red eye glowed. "Because it wouldn't benefit me, not yet anyway."

_Grab his hand…_

My skin tingled at the echoing command of the unfamiliar woman's voice. It traveled down my spine and lingered in my chest, easing the rhythm of my heart. I followed the order without hesitation and a shock of images flooded my mind.

Brown eyes... beautiful compassionate eyes...

Eyes I'd seen before...

A sweet angelic face...

Hatred... for her?

Self-loathing...

Despair...

... Love?

In front of me, I saw a slight looking woman with a simple white dress. She walked gracefully passed me and continued into the arms of a younger Kazuya. He kissed her as if she were the very air his lungs desired, the food his stomach hungered for. He held her as if she was a delicate figurine made out of glass. She looked at him like there was no one else in the world.

"How dare you, witch!" The vision was suddenly ripped away.

I looked down at my hand. It appeared like it'd been burned.

"Don't you ever touch me again." A steel grip seized my throat and I was rudely jerked back into the present.

"Get your hands off of her!" Jasmine hollered.

Kazuya back-handed her and I landed a powerful knee into his kidney. He was fazed, but only for a matter of seconds. It was just enough. I grabbed Jasmine's wrist and whisked her down the steps. We virtually leapt down them. Once we'd reached the floor, I didn't stop running. In fact, we didn't stop until we found ourselves outside and in a snow-covered garden with lovely sculptures and a large kiosk near the south end.

I felt safe here... It was cold, but not the kind that chilled your soul and sucked all the light from you. We'd stay here for a while. I didn't want to go back to the darkness just yet.

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**A/N:** Yo guys! How'd ya like this chapter? I've been jammin' to Mortal Kombat and Silent Hill music while I've been writing this. As you can see, it helps ;D. I couldn't totally maim Xiao. I don't like her, but she's still a true character... if you get what I'm saying. Don't worry, though. She's not really crazy or anything like that. If I choose to write a sequel, she'll be fairly normal... fairly. Honestly though, I think you've made me despise Xiao even more with your piece 'Decoy', Razer. I mean... she was a major BITCH, etc. etc.

_Razer Athane_: Thanks for the review again, haha! You made that icon?! It looks awesome and I wish I had something to make Gracie. I've drawn her, but it's just not the same. She needs to be 3-D. xD

_spongecake 2_: Don't worry about it. :) I'm just glad you liked the chapter. I was really worried about if the last one didn't measure up.

_solaris4_: Thanks for faving!

_Millenia-the-wings-of-valmar_: Thanks for the fave as well. I'd totally forgotten to thank you when you'd done it. :/ Sorry, haha.

_Robot Dog:_ Thanks for adding my story to your alert list!


	15. Smoldering Wings

**Made of Scars**

**Chapter 15: Smoldering Wings**

**(Jin's POV)**

The moon was a ghost of white against the black velvet of the winter night. Dinner had already passed with no sign of Gracie, Thomas, or Jasmine. My father seemed bent on holding a nonstop staring contest with me, and the fiends found it bothersome and intriguing all at the same time.

"Just like the way you found the close proximity of Gracie intriguing earlier this afternoon." My voice mocked knowingly.

_Who is she to me? How do I know her?_

"Isn't it obvious, yet?"

I grumbled. _No…_

"She's right. You are dense, boy."

_Who is Gracie Elizabeth!?_

"I've already told you. She's the gate keeper… one of the last… besides her half sister… and her grandmother…"

_What?_

"Huh? I didn't say anything."

_Fuck you!_

"Frustrated?"

_Piss off…_

"Males can only carry the gene. They cannot perform what their female counterparts can."

_Why?_

**_Gracie was needed. _**

_Needed for what?_

_**To bond both bloodlines.**_

_Bloodlines?_

The demons fell silent and my skin prickled as if a blanket of thorns enveloped me, trying to seep blood from my veins. The world felt oddly unhinged and I thought I heard whispering footfalls.

"I am going to kill you, boy." Heihachi said roughly, his onyx eyes gleaming as he stepped into the moonlight.

"All in good time, old man."

He grinned. "All in good time, my bastard of a grandson."

We remained facing each other for a few moments before he turned and headed back to the mansion, entering through a side door. The creatures bucked and snarled, filling my mouth with a coppery taste. They wanted him dead. He would soon jeopardize their plans… whatever those plans were.

_**We want him more than dead, Kazama.**_

_I'm sure…_ I said sardonically.

They crowed with laughter. _**Remember we'd saved your skin after he defeated Toshin. You would be sporting a bullet hole in your head without us.**_

_I'd rather be dead._

**_We know._** They simpered.

A cloud slid over the moon, veiling the world in a transitory gloom, and I abruptly detected the rustling of dragging feet. The rhythm was slightly awkward and uncoordinated… Gracie. I found it endearing how she stumbled about, yet her poise triumphed in combat. She walked quietly toward the kiosk, her hands behind her back and her eyes directed toward the white ground. She wore a bulky winter coat and light colored jeans. The jeans perfectly defined her well-developing hips, curvy legs, and muscled calves. The jacket fit snuggly around her slim waist and loosely framed her breast. My heart-rate jumped into overdrive and my hands itched to touch her.

For a while, I seemed content on watching her from the shadows, and so did the monsters. She kicked absent-mindedly at the dirt and snow a few times, and then sat down on a hulking boulder, which lay close to a nearly frozen pond. Some koi carp swam about, no doubt trying to keep themselves warm against the cold. Gracie looked down at them, her lower lip puckering and her eyebrows scrunching together in deep thought.

_**You do know that you will get to keep her soon. She'll be yours alone… all yours.**_ They cooed.

_Leave me be._ I grumbled miserably, thinking that they were just teasing me.

_**She does want you as you want her…**_

My heart leapt into my throat and a foreign yet lovely flavor soaked my tongue. It tasted so primal, so basic… so delicious. It was her taste. I felt my manhood harden and a familiar heat engulf my body. Desire flared like a wild fire in my loins and my mouth watered as if I were looking at a slab of meat and hadn't eaten for days... I wanted her... God, how I _wanted_ her.

_Damn you! What is the point of all this?_

**_Doesn't she look delectable?_**

_Answer me, you swine!_ I roared.

**_How ironic…_ **They mused. _**The boy compared us to pigs. That wasn't too far from the truth some time ago.**_

_What are you two blathering about? _

**_Just reflecting over our past…_**

_That's sweet._ I bit scathingly.

They didn't retort, so I focused on Gracie, who'd nestled deeper into her jacket. She wore her hair in a loose bun atop her head with a few stray bangs framing her face. The cold tainted her cheeks a charming rosy red and her hands were draped around her knees, which were snug against her chest. At that moment, she appeared so much like a lost child.

My feet suddenly started to move forward and my heart fell into a frenzy of palpitations. I wanted so much to break into a run, but the monsters found it more appropriate to torture me. Her provocative scent enticed my senses and I, in some way, summoned the power to stop myself right before her. She hadn't noticed me yet. Her eyes were clamped tightly shut and she rocked to and fro, worrying her lower lip between her teeth. My mouth tried to form words, the words they wanted me to say, but I remained silent. The beasts dragged their spiked tongues along my bones and hummed wicked songs that charred my muscles. I refused to acknowledge the delusion. Even if they truly harmed me, they'd heal me as if nothing ever happened. They still needed me. I knew that much, at least.

"What do _you_ want?" Gracie's tired voice yanked me out of my trance.

The demons battled for the power over my vocal cords, but, for some reason, they continued to be unresponsive to both them and me. I could feel a pleasant numbing sensation pass over my forehead and someone's invisible lips pressed against my cheek.

"What the _hell_ do you want, Kazama?"

One word came out of my mouth before I collapsed. "Abaddon..."

My vision blurred, but I could still make out Gracie's horrified expression as she leapt off the rock and kneeled at my side. I could feel spit dribbling down my cheek and my skin crawled with something... something... I couldn't describe it. My limbs spasmed, as if trying to break free from their hold, and my eyes rolled back. An unexpected shock ran through me as she grabbed my shoulders, trying to steady me. Memories flashed across my mind and I hissed in pain. I could taste them coming for her, seeking her out in the dark and devouring her over and over again. I could feel her agony, her sorrow, and her confusion.

The memories slowed and I stood in a simple white-walled room. Gracie sat on a queen-sized bed painting with water colors. There was something off about this memory, though. It felt detached... like a dream. I'd learned long ago not to question my instinct.

Her iridescent silvery orbs followed the ratty brush as it made a deliberate black stroke down the neck of a horse she'd drawn. She looked no older than thirteen and her hair was even longer than it was now. Holding firmly to the paper and the brush, she scrunched her face in concentration.

I smiled. She embodied the word 'adorable'. I dared to step a little closer and she blew out an aggravated sigh, sending her bangs into a wild dance before her face.

Then, the distant ring of a doorbell echoed in the hallway and she slipped off her bed to go and investigate. I went with her. Before she went to the door, she grabbed a chair. Upon reaching the door, she sat the chair down and climbed ontop of it to peak out of the peephole. A smile lit up her face as she saw whoever it was and she hopped off the chair and scooted it out of the way to open the door.

"Hello again." She said cheekily.

"Hello there, Gracie." An attractive woman chuckled... a false laugh.

I moved in for a closer look. She had strikingly similar silver eyes and wild dark hair. Her smile never reached her eyes, however, and something was definitely wrong with them. I couldn't place it. She appeared so gentle, yet she didn't feel like she fit in her skin. I shivered. What was it about her that felt so false? Everything?

"Can I come inside?" Her tone light and giddy.

Gracie frowned for a moment, unsure. "Daddy will get mad if I let you in."

She waved her hand. "He doesn't have to know."

"I don't know..."

The woman looked past her and right into my eyes. I froze as I felt a clawed hand wrap around my heart and squeeze. That's when her deceiving orbs flickered. It was a swift and split second action, but I saw the true color... the pulsating red of destruction. As Gracie turned to see what she was looking at, the woman gifted me a distorted sneer, her mouth mutating into a hideous myriad of uneven and jagged steel teeth. I tried to breathe, but failed.

"Gracie," the woman whispered, her appearance changing back.

Gracie looked up at her, eager but suspicious. She knew the creature was false. She could feel it. I wanted to scream, to tear into this thing that wished to harm her.

"If you let me in, I'll tell you those secrets we talked about last night."

Gracie wrung her hands in her pajama pockets and focused on the entrance rug. "What secrets?"

"I have to come in to show you." The woman's smile broadened.

"What secrets?" Gracie persisted.

The creature glanced up to me, then reverted her gaze back to Gracie. "It's about your mother. It's about you... and your daddy."

Gracie's eyes widened and her hands trembled. "What do you know about my mom?"

The creature had hit the right nerve...

"Let me in and I'll tell you. No," she paused. "I'll show you. How about that?"

Gracie looked around the room, checking to make sure the coast was clear, and opened the door completely for the beast to enter. In that moment, the illusion melted away from her true form, and she smirked at me. Her skin was replaced by mangy hair, gilded scales, a spiny tail, and a crown of twisted horns.

Monstrosity.

"No," I finally found the strength to holler... only too late.

Gracie never saw it coming. As the fiend stepped through the door, the world fell silent and a chilly blackness overwhelmed my soul. Gracie seemed solidified, as if time had stopped. Only her eyes told me of the sudden jolt of fear and pain that slithered up her spine and drilled into her heart. I tried to run over to her, but my legs were shaky and wouldn't obey. I ended up falling to the floor beside where she stood and succumbing to need of the diminishing light that'd fled the room. My scar began to sear into my skin, charring it to nothing but dried out meat, and my stomach lurched precariously. Out of nowhere, an icy hand lifted me up by my throat and slammed me against the wall. The demon gripped my neck with amazing force and breathed its fetid breath into my face. I tried to fight it off, but every blow left it unaffected.

After a few moments, I simply quit and looked over at Gracie. She'd crumpled to the ground and the ancient writ marred her pale skin again. Her usually vibrant eyes were a mirror-like obsidian and her crescent moon scar bled freely.

Then, before I could even register what was going on, the demon turned into a curling white smoke and entered my mouth and nostrils, choking me. The last thing I heard prior to the darkness, was the creature's hollow words. "She is why you're made of scars."

x**X**x**X**x

_It is here that the mother of abomination seeks out the place of destruction._

_It is here that man shall weep for their ignorance and disregard._

_In the bruising dawn shall they see the Hellish angel of rot that has come to raze them to ash._

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**A/N:** Hahaha, a taste of things to come! Hey guys... This chapter came quickly to me, and a lot of it found me at work, heeheehee. I'm sorry that it's soooo short, but I don't feel like I should add anything to it. I'll make up for with the next. I promise you that. I still have a LOT to incorporate into the story. It's tiring at times. Also, if there are any mistakes, please let me know. Thanks! .......... I want a wolf hybrid... Ha, I know that's random. They're so beautiful, though. I suppose I can just add one in one of my stories for the time being... one day... hopefully... one day....... *cough* I thought I completely had the plot figured out, but it just keeps getting deeper. I love it, haha. You guys will either hate me, or love me for the ending... seriously. I hope you all enjoyed! Ooh, and please don't forget to review. Do they make me happy? Yes, damn you! Review! Heeee!!!

_Razer Athane:_ Oh my freakin' God! I never thought of that!!! But, no Zafina isn't her mother. It would've been a FANTASTIC plot twist considering what I have set up for this story. Well... I think Zafina might be a little too young to be her mom, but she could've been her sister X). Ooh, and I think you mentioned that the program you used to create that icon of Razer was called Poser. I checked it out on the net and I think I'm gonna go get it, hahaha. It looks awesome and like a lot of fun.

_missingthepoint_: Wow! Thanks for the review! I'm glad you like my story. I've worked so freakin' hard on it xD. I also weaved it as closely to the story line as my plot would allow. I might consider a sequel if a lot of people agree on it. I'll probably end up going back after I'm finished and edit this whole damn thing. The first 8-11 chapters are bugging me...


	16. Puncture Wounds

**Made of Scars**

**Chapter 16: Puncture Wounds**

**(Gracie's POV)**

The times before, he'd touched me, but, as I laid my hands on his shoulders, my thoughts went haywire and my senses heightened to an excruciating level. My joints locked as if they'd been electrocuted and the world went black.

...

When I awoke, I heard the distant sound of incoherent ramblings in the gloom. Kazama? I bolted up into a sitting position and immediately regretted it as my muscles screamed in protest. The scene before me was no longer a snow-covered garden, but a disgustingly pulsing dreamland. I felt something wet raining down on me that I hoped was just water.

"Kazama?" I called.

"Over here," someone hissed. "Over here."

I slowly got to my feet and dusted off my backside. I could hardly see in this rainy dimness and sound felt very weird here, as if it had a five second delay or something. I frowned. What the hell was it with this dream bullshit? I grumbled as I began stumbling around, nearing tripping over an exposed tree root.

"Ouch! Fucking hell!" I snapped heatedly.

Ahead, a small pool of sickly yellow lighting illuminated the mucky earth and Kazama's body, which lay spread-eagle and half sunken in the sludge. I hurried over and stooped down beside him. His expression contorted into one of agony. I smoothed his sweaty bangs from his forehead and he jolted as if I'd dealt him a cruel slap. Black slithering lines tattooed his chest and as I looked at the mud beside him, I saw a pair colossal of wings half buried and black as pitch. A pair of hideous horns sprouted from the sides of his head and he screamed in pain.

I reached out to touch him again and this time he didn't jump. In fact, he didn't react at all. His body had grown utterly still and I had to look extra hard to see if he was even breathing. My fingers skimmed across his clammy forehead and along the rough, gaunt horns. His lips parted as he released a weighted sigh and I shuddered as I felt his oddly cold breath touch my wrist.

"Kazama?" I whispered hesitantly.

Should I even be waking him up? He looked like some monster out of a badass horror flick. I looked closely at the shadowy designs marring his face and I nearly jumped out of my skin when his eyes snapped open, revealing shiny orbs of white fire. They watched me watching them and I could've sworn I saw something at odds. I gasped as his hand reached up and grasped my own, which was still lingering on his temple. His skin felt ice cold and like stone. I held perfectly still as he brought my wrist to his mouth and kissed it tenderly.

Then, out of nowhere, he sank his fangs into my flesh and drew blood. I cried out in surprise and yanked my hand away. He watched me with a detached indifference.

"What the hell, you sick fuck?" I quickly scrambled away, my hand cradled against my chest. "What do you want?" I screamed dejectedly, tears finally challenging my eyes. "Stop this and just tell me what you fucking want!"

"I want pain. I want torment. I want devastation."

"You already have that." I snapped hatefully. "We all do!"

He cocked his head to the side, still lying in the mud, and gave me a sickeningly sweet smile. "You think I'm speaking of just you mortals? No… I want your creator to choke on the stench of your failure, to see his precious design bow to temptation and embrace deception, wholly."

"There's always been someone to stop you, someone to resist." I realized. "This is your next attempt... out of countless others."

He grinned frostily. "It takes many wrongs to make a right."

"Tenacious aren't we?" I muttered.

"You aren't the first we've damned without any sin to convict you."

I was caught off guard by the declaration. "What?"

Voices hummed in the darkness and felt clawed hands grip my shoulders and send me slamming to the ground. My head spun and I gagged on muck and water. The hands found me again and drug me up to my feet with a rough jerk. Kazama now stood with his massive wings erect and a ominous purple aura emitting from his skin. I focused on them, not wanting to look into his eyes. I hoped that the muddy water hid the tears coursing down my cheeks. He stepped up to me and tilted my chin until I faced him. He leaned down and licked my tears away. I suddenly felt powerless and insignificant. My heart ripped with every sob that wanted to explode from my chest and my hands trembled with defeat.

"Giving up?" He said in a singsong voice.

Was I giving up? I stared into his dark eyes and my body went numb. It wasn't a comfortable lack of sensation, but it wasn't unwelcomed either. For so long, I'd believed that my dreams had been just that—dreams. For so long, I'd neglected the feeling of loss and sorrow that lurked deep in the recesses of my mind. I just didn't comprehend until now. His eyes told me it all in that moment. Why I had these nightmares, why I always felt like I'd been surrounded by sinister shadows, why I felt like something had been tearing my spine from my back, trying to climb inside—I was empty… completely empty.

"Your soul has been safe with us, Gracie." He cooed and kissed my lips in a bruising kiss.

I didn't resist. I was simply unresponsive. The feeling of despair crawled over me in a nauseating sluggishness and I went limp, letting him catch me in his arms.

I felt so _alone_.

"Gracie," a distant voice screamed, worried.

_Jasmine?_

Kazama pulled away from me and let me collapse to the ground. That's when I saw the flicker of something on his face. His horns shrank back into his skull and the black tattooing dissipated. A roar of anger boomed in the hellish wonderland and I let out a hollow laugh. I was just so tired. My bones ached and my mind seemed lethargic and unwilling to piece it all together. I didn't care anymore. I didn't care about answers. I didn't care that my father had raped my mother in a demonic ritual. I didn't give a damn anymore…

"Gracie! Wake up!" another voice called.

_Thomas…_

"Gracie…" a shaky whisper broke me from my thoughts.

Kazama had fallen beside me. I smiled at the fact that I hadn't even noticed. His eyes were back to their russet hue and his wings quivered agonizingly. His face looked so different. I frowned in thought. The wickedness had melted from his features. His eyes did appear warmer, more honey-like now. A burning amber.

"Kazama?" I murmured faintly. "You're… different…"

He inched up beside me and grasped my shoulders. "Gracie! Listen! You've got to remember my words, okay?"

I was so thrown off by the one-eighty he'd pulled that I just stared at him dumbly. He blew out a frustrated gust of air and pulled me closer to him, putting his lips right next to my ear. I blinked wearily, my arms too fatigued to shove him away. His tone had changed from its silkily glacial edge to being more desperate and pleading... more human...

"Gracie! Don't black out! Listen to me, please!" He shook me violently.

"Stop that…" I murmured.

"Damn it, Gracie! I've seen your nightmares. I've lived them, but you've got to stay away from me. Get away from here! Do you hear me? Get away from here!"

My muddled brain processed the information and I pursed my lips. "What are you getting at?"

"Gracie, you know. You've seen it!" Kazama smoothed my hair out of my face and his touch sent shivers down my spine.

The contact was so dissimilar to before. It made my skin heat up and my mind spin, yet it calmed me… somehow.

"Where did you come from?"

He embraced me tighter, more protectively. "I've always been here… underneath."

"You know my nightmares? I've seen you before." I babbled unevenly, the tears surfacing again. "I just want a break… I just want to go home. I want Thomas… daddy. I want Jasmine… my sister. I want home."

I just needed someone to fall into. I needed to release all this sorrow and rage. I needed someone to hold me, someone who knew exactly what I went through. I didn't care if he was lying when he said he knew. Just the fact that he was saying he knew, was enough. My eyes drifted into blackness and I ripped them back open when I was shook fiercely for the umpteenth time.

"I just want to rest." I said softly, irritated.

"Just get away from me and away from here." He spoke roughly.

"I just—" Did I really want answers, anymore? No. Did I really need them? Why'd I been so foolish as to drag the only family I had to this place? They didn't deserve this hell. "I just wanted to know…"

"Gracie! Gracie!" Thomas' voice trembled throughout the darkness.

"Get Thomas out of the tournament. Get them _both_ out of here!"

"This is really you…" It was more a declaration than a question.

He rolled his eyes. "Whether this is really me or not, listen to my words. Get out of here, damn it! Jeez, Gracie, for being intelligent, you can be really stupid sometimes."

I snarled feebly at him and that's when I realized how close I was to his face. His skin seemed less sallow and healthier. His eyes were more alive than before, smoldering. His lips, now fuller due to the fact that he wasn't sneering, hovered just centimeters above my own. I could taste his hot breath, sweet and enticing. My mind battled to control the unknown eagerness birthing at my core. Warmth spread across my limbs and I snuggled into his chest. His wings wrapped around us both and I didn't want to leave here. No… I didn't want to leave his embrace. What the hell? I went from hating his guts to needing his presence. And, what was this with his personality doing a one-eighty? I felt so weak and I hated myself for succumbing so easily to him. I hated myself for letting him see my vulnerability. I hated him for knowing. Violent sobs racked my chest and I wrapped my mind around the truth. I couldn't deny it any longer.

"Gracie!" Jasmine's scream invaded my ears and I grimaced.

...

I opened my eyes and found that I lay on my bed with Thomas and Jasmine leaning over me. Where was Kazama? The thought of him made my blood boil. Then, it all came back to me in a crashing wave of nausea. I pushed Jasmine out of my way and stumbled to the bathroom and lost all contents I'd eaten in the last twenty-four hours in the toilet. I turned away from it in revulsion and wept. Jasmine rushed in beside me and pulled me into a suffocating hug.

My stomach still convulsed despite I had nothing else but bile and spit, and I cried even harder. What had I ever done to deserve something like this? How could I still feel pain if…? I buried my face into Jasmine's shirt and she caressed my trembling back. Thomas squatted down next to us, flushing the toilet and turning back to look at me, his eyes grief-stricken, enraged, and lost.

"What happened?" He whispered.

I sniffled. "I just… I want to go away from here. I don't care about my questions anymore… I don't give a shit about anything anymore."

Thomas sighed. "What happened Gracie? Did Kazama hurt you?" His tone grew dangerous.

I swallowed back bile, my face twisting in disgust. "No… he didn't. I just… Why couldn't you tell me that my mother ran from my father? Why couldn't you tell me that he'd raped her because of some demonic ritual? Why couldn't you tell me I'm cursed?" I bit the last part out in a shaky whisper.

Thomas looked at me with tired, saddened eyes. "I thought I could keep you away. Your mother begged me to protect you right before she died. I thought that they'd never find you. I should've known better."

I glowered at him. "Should've, could've, would've… but you didn't…"

He averted his gaze. "Yeah… and it hurt you."

I instantly regretted my sour tone, but my pride and my suffering wouldn't allow me to apologize. Jasmine gave me a scolding look and I looked out the bathroom window, wishing only to sprout wings and flee to the heavens or bury myself into the wall. I glanced back at Thomas and wiped the tear streaks from my face.

"Can I be alone for a while?"

They both looked skeptical.

Thomas shook his head. "You don't cry. What happened in your dreams, Gracie?"

I studied my hands. "This was supposed to happen. We're supposed to be here... all of us. We need to get away, but I Kazama will never let us go."

Jasmine caught my gaze. "It's more than just Kazama. It's something worse that resides within him."

I simply nodded rising unsteadily to my feet and walking back into the bedroom. Thomas and Jasmine followed silently behind, their eyes burning into my back. Both knew more than they were letting on, and so did I. Where did this secrecy come from? I felt so ashamed. My arms began to throb and I sighed in frustration. It was Jasmine's gasp that first grabbed my attention. Then, Thomas stunned eyes, which were locked on my aching arms. Then... the shadow that moved near the window.

"You can make the dreamworld real." Came the velvety feminine tone of the stranger.

I looked down at my arms and stared stupidly. Nasty red puncture wounds lined my shoulders, as if some monster had grabbed ahold of me and shook me violently. They stung with poison. The memory of Kazama's clawed hands wrapping around my skin chilled my bones and I shuddered. Once again, my dreams were attacking me as they'd done when I was thirteen. I should've known when when I woke up in that hospital bed with Thomas and Jasmine standing beside me.

After a few moments of silence, I decided to break it. Looking over at the shapely shadow, I crossed my arms, ignoring the immediate stab of pain in my shoulders. "Who are you and why are you here?"

The woman stepped out and I held back a gasp. Her bedroom brown eyes, lithe legs, sun-kissed skin, and pitch black hair seemed to materialize out of the darkness like some foreign mist. She surveyed me with an unreadable expression and I faltered under her gaze. Though I tried to hide it, she'd noticed, but she made no attempt to acknowledge it. Instead, she tilted her head slightly to the side and looked to Jasmine and Thomas. I shut my eyes momentarily and took a deep breath.

My family are what matters. They are my life... my...

I coudn't finish the thought. What soul could I possibly have? The dream had not been a lie. I pushed the urge to cry down into my gut and glared foward in determination. I couldn't be weak. I would not succumb to weakness. Never...

I gripped at what sanity I had left, what truth I had. Thomas and Jasmine were the truth. The feeling of loneliness amplified sevenfold and I took a deep breath. The woman warrior watched me with a curious emotion in her eyes. Was that sorrow? Compassion? I focused on her stare and she nodded once, her long lashes casting a soft shadow under her eyes. She moved like an enticing huntress, a sorceress kissed by both moon and sun. Is that why her skin held that uniquely pale yet sweetly sun-touched quality.

"Why are you here?" I said again, this time my tone had softened.

"I'd found you in the garden with that brutishly obnoxious girl named Asuka." She answered.

"What happened to Kazama?" I asked quickly.

Thomas stepped up behind me and placed both his hands on my shoulders, soothing some of my tension away. I didn't move away or stop him. Jasmine came to sit on the bed a few feet away and grabbed my hand. I looked down at our entwined fingers and back up to the woman.

"Kazama hosted the tournament today. He has suffered no change from the two nights prior."

The color drained from my face. "Two nights prior? I've been out for two days?"

Thomas squeezed my shoulders and Jamsine my hand. I looked at both of them before turning my gaze back to the woman.

"Zafina has stayed with us the majority of the time that you've been asleep." Thomas told me.

I glanced at him. "Are you still in the tournament?"

He nodded. "One of the opponents was nearly killed today."

I inhaled sharply. "Who?"

"The Asuka girl. She's his cousin I think." Jasmine piped up.

I looked to Zafina and she shook her head. "The girl was too brash. Only hours ago, it happened. The man had crushed her with ease."

"What man?" I pressed.

"Hehachi Mishima..." Thomas answered.

Thomas was still in the tournament. A fear settled in my chest and I swallowed thickly. Out of nowhere, I turned around and hugged my father with such urgency that he gasped in surprise. Why did I suddenly feel like he could disappear, seep right through my arms as if he were a pallid fog. My heart contorted with misery and I breathed in his scent. Though he hadn't tinkered with vehicles, his clothes still smelled of engine oil, brake fluid, and aging metal.

"Gracie?"

I looked up at him and frowned. "I'm sorry daddy. I'd been selfish and wrong. I was just so... I didn't think of what this would do to you, or Jasmine..."

He took my chin between his thumb and index finger. "I'm sorry I never told you, baby. You're my life. I should have been honest with you."

I sighed. "It wouldn't have mattered. I would've come here, anyway. I'd been drawn here, like a moth to a flame." My eyes drifted to Jasmine as I uttered the tail end of the sentence.

Her eyes scrunched in confusion and agony as she swiftly averted her gaze to the window and the night outside. I stared at her for a moment before settling my eyes on Zafina. She watched me with a deep-rooted sadness in her frowning lips and dusky orbs.

"I've seen you in my visions." She began softly. "Your eyes bleed and shadows writhe on and within your skin. They swallow you... and your womb..." she trailed off, her voice dying uneasily.

My command came out harsher than I'd expected. "What else?"

"Within you... within the life of your child, their shall be many. They shall move like a plague, spreading across the light of the world and engulf it in a cold darkness."

"They work through us." I whispered to myself.

Zafina heard me and stepped forward, placing a hand on my shoulder. "It is the only way. You are the gate keeper. You carry the same blood as your grandmother, father, and half-sister."

"I've seen my grandmother... in my dreams." I hissed in loathing.

"The blind sorceress who bewitched Jinpachi with the demon, Crone."

My stomach lurched dangerously. "I tainted Kazama."

"You did not know." She said gently. "Your father tried to protect you from this and in doing so veiled the truth from your eyes. You were tricked into releasing the fiend."

"I knew it. In my dreams, I'd seen a person... not a beast of darkness."

She smiled. "His mother's blood is strong."

I raised my eyebrows. "His mother?"

"You own mother had fled to the mountains in the far east. She was weak and months into her pregnancy. Jun Kazama found her near a stream one night. She'd passed out from lack of nutrition and rest. For six weeks, Jun Kazama protected her and the unborn girl she carried. At night, her son, Jin, would sing a lullaby to the child and chase away the monsters from her dreams."

My body stiffened as she began to hum the familiar tune. Through her voice, I could almost here Kazama's; his baratone tenor lulled my heart's quickening pace amd I closed my eyes. Jasmine stood up beside me and held my hand with a vice grip.

"The creatures won't let us leave." I whispered desolately.

Zafina closed her eyes in grief and she caressed my cheek. "You came here because it was to be so. They must destroy the key, Gracie Miller. She is the only hope we have."

"Who is the key?" I groaned unhappily.

"She is right under your nose, dear girl. You must protect her, for they attempt to dispose of her soon."

We were all silent for a few moments and it took me a second to realize that Zafina was sashaying to the door, her odd sandals barely making a sound. I hurried after her and shut the door behind me, not wanting the others to hear.

"Wait!"

She turned to me.

"If you have visions, then tell me who the key is. Tell me why I was drawn here. Tell me why I'm without a soul..."

She shook her head. "It is not that simple. I am practically as blind as you are to this situation. I only see spare images, flashes of emotions, or blurred actions. I know not what will happen. All I know is that you can't let your father fight tomorrow and that you must stay away from Kazama."

My frown deepened. "It's not really Kazama. It's them I must fear."

She simply looked down the hall, her eyes dulled with exhaustion. "Get him out of the fight..."

With that, she walked on down the hall, leaving me to slide down the wall and succumb to tears.

**o**

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**A/N:** Sorry if this chapter is confusing at all. I could only work on it in pieces and I really didn't have time to look back and see what I'd written along the way. Oh, and please tell me if there are any mistakes. Thanks! Okay... so this story has come a long way. I actually feel quite accomplished considering I've never been this close to completing a multi-chapter story before. I'm excited. Sorry it took a while for this to be posted. I've been really busy with work and fixing up my room and such. I'm also fixing up a koi pond in my back yard, hahaha. I love those fish.

_missingthepoint_: I don't prefer Jin/Xiao... I would much rather read a Jin/Julia fanfic, but, if someone can write a good piece of literature, I won't protest. I do consider Xiao/Hwoarang to be an _okay_ pairing. I prefer a weird partner for Xiao... maybe someone like Bryan Fury, or Marduk... Hahahaha, they'd probably both kill her because she's so damn annoying... definitely cute... but _annoying_. She kinda reminds me of Jackie from 'That Seventies Show'.

_Razer Athane_: Really? I'll have to have a look at my computer then, hehehe.

_spongecake 2_: Awww, I've missed you, Spongey! xD Thanks for the review! It made me feel all fuzzy inside to know that nobody rights pure malice like I do. It made me smile like some curcus idiot. Works got me buried, too. Gah, I hate being a prison guard... it's such a shithole with narrowminded, shallow inbreeds. Bah, I'll quit my bitchin'. I'm just glad you took the time to review. I feel the love. Fa la la la la! ;D


	17. Flower of Pain

_I hope you guys don't kill me..._

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**Made of Scars**

**Chapter 17: Flower of Pain**

**(Jin's POV)**

My hand pressed against the mirror's surface, grinding into the cracking glass, as Gracie's face plagued my mind. My distorted sneer reflected back at me and the weight of their loathing crushed my heart. I could taste Gracie's lips. It sent a shiver down my spine and I couldn't suppress a moan. The flavor curled around my tongue and aroused my desire tenfold.

**_Very soon, now…_**

_... The meeting of the two stars..._

**_Good boy! You're learning!_** They laughed.

_I'm not one of the two stars..._

**_No..._** They chorused cherrily. **_It'd been a great ploy, though. Who could've doubted that you, a devil's son, were one of the stars. _**

_Who are they, then?_ I snarled, irritated.

**_Can't tell!_** They chanted.

_Of course not..._ I snapped.

**_Don't be so blue._** They taunted. **_The best part is just around the corner... literally!_**

I was about to question their maddened banter, when a soft knock whispered at my chamber door. The hair on the back of my neck stood at attention. Why would she come see me? An unsettling curiosity stained my thoughts. I could sense them wanting her here... why? She'd come to save her father, or so she hoped. He was set to fight my own disgrace of a father tomorrow. The fiends' rabid excitement heightened as my fingers curled around the doorknob.

_Let it go, Jin... You cannot fight it this time... you won't wish to, either..._

My mother's voice startled me as the door opened to reveal a puffy-eyed Gracie standing with her arms crossed and a determined looked on her face. Several feet down the hall, a guard jogged toward her, intent on forcing her to leave me undisturbed. He stopped at the wave of my hand, nodded curtly, and left us alone. Silence wrapped around us as she glared up at me, her silvery orbs bare for all to see. Immense pain radiated from her colorless aura and her jaw twitched as she clenched it tightly.

"Come in, Miss Miller."

She eased passed me, doing her best not to touch any part of my body. She'd been crying. Her hands remained stiffly at her sides and new cuts marred her naked arms. The dream. The remembrance of it caused my throat to constrict.

"Take my father out." she said scratchily.

My lips curved into a smirk. "No beating around the bush?"

"I'm sick of your bullshit. I know _you_." Her eyes fell for a moment. "Just... let them go."

"Ah, choosing to be selfless for once? After all, it is your fault they are here. They came all this way... just for you... and what have you done to them?"

Her lower lip trembled and guilt shadowed her features. "They have no purpose here. Let them go."

"Oh, but they do." My tenor was laced with malice. "_We_ must teach you to hate."

She backed away as I took a step foward. "I didn't know then. I was merely a child. You'd tricked me!" She snarled. "Why do you need them? What purpose could they possibly serve? You have me already. I've nowhere to run."

"That you don't, and as for Thomas and Jasmine... they've yet to serve their _much_ needed purpose... one of them at least..."

She clamped her eyes shut, tears finally trickling down her cheeks. She was defeated. She knew it. Her whole body shook and her hands balled into fists. My heart tore with every beat. No one deserved this sort of torture. The creatures cackled at both our suffering.

"How does it feel to be soulless?"

Hurt reflected from her moist gray depths. "Like glass in an open wound," she bit sardonically.

My—no their laugh echoed off the walls. My blood turned to fire in my veins and I could feel the ugly black markings scorching their way through my skin. Gracie's eyes widened in horror and she backed against the wall, looking frantically at the door behind me. My vision blurred red and I howled as my onyx wings ripped through my flesh. Blood splattered the room and Gracie finally found the courage to peel herself off the wall. She came at me with a flurry of feral but accurate punches and kicks. All of them were easily diverted. Had it been under normal circumstances, I would not have been fast enough to deflect her advances. She was smaller, faster, and a bit more nimble on her feet. Also, she fought out of blind desperation.

She struggled as my iron grip closed around her throat and I slammed her against the wall. I searched madly in the darkness, trying to find a crack, even a slight fissure. The blackness came at me in a debilitating rush and I screamed— only a murmur in my mind... always just a murmur. Her pitiful begging cleaved my soul in two and I yanked at the slithering chains that bound me. She begged for her father. She begged for Jasmine... and she begged for me.

"I've done enough to Jin." She gasped. "This was all my fault... all... mine..."

"Defeat... So soon?" They jeered. "I would've thought better of you, Tatiana Rostov."

She ground her nails into my wrists. "That is not my name!"

"It is the name your father gave you." They hissed. "It is the name of the bastard child... you… the gate keeper..."

_Don't resist it, Jin..._ I couldn't believe my mother's command.

"Stop!" Gracie choked. "Please... please stop..."

"... mother of abomination..." they purred.

She'd completely given up. Her eyes closed and she exhaled a broken sob. The old writ coiled along her skin and an odd sensation raced from my fingertips to my toes. I pulled her to me and she no longer resisted.

She felt that she deserved this. How could she?

My thumb dragged along her cheek, brushing away a lone tear. For a moment, she opened her eyes and gazed up at me, emotionless. A leer twisted my lips and I dug my thumb into her cheek, forcing my nail to break the skin. She winced and suppressed a cry of pain. I watched the blood as it mingled with one of the saline rivulets down her chin. My head leaned forward and I tried to fight them. They lashed out at me, vicious and unrelenting.

I understood now, and I was a complete fool for not having seen it sooner.

Gracie was the gate keeper, the only way for the demon's to enter. Through her, and all females in her bloodline, they'd gotten to me, my father, and my great grandfather. And, through the meeting of the two stars, would the task be complete. Gracie's body was an empty doorway... A demon could not remain within her. My father housed a rogue demon who didn't want to play by their rules and the two possessing me found my blood to be too soiled by my mother's...

Then, my mind froze over...

They could delude my mother's white witch blood just enough... by conceiving a child with Gracie's blood. They sought to birth a vessel of darkness. My mother's whispered words echoed in my head. _With her hatred, she will unleash Legion._

Legion... My stomach lurched and my heart leapt into my throat. Another smoke screen. Once again, I'd been a fool for not having seen it sooner. How many demons truly possessed me? How many possessed my father? I'd read most of the King James Version of the bible when I'd lived with Heihachi to better my education, I suppose... or maybe it was just boredom. Whichever it was, it didn't matter now. The Gospel of Mark 5:9 rang in my head...

_And he asked him, "What is thy name?" And he answered, saying, "My name is Legion: for we are many."_

I didn't much care for Christianity, or religion for that matter. But, the truth of it, I couldn't deny. The story went that Jesus cast out the host of demons from the man into a herd of pigs. Legion had begged Christ not to send them to Hell. After that, the herd of swine unfortunatey drown themselves in the Sea of Galilee.

Legion had been sent back to Hell, and, through time, they used Gracie's ancestors to come back here. _With her hatred, she will unleash Legion._ I repeated over and over, trying to understand it. How would Legion bring her to hate?

Thomas...

_Vengeance..._

She would learn to hate my father...

I roared at the shadows restraining me, but they only chuckled nastily and willed all my senses to focus on what I did next. Gracie wrestled wildly at my grip as I crashed my lips upon her own. She tasted of salt, bitter salt. I wanted her so badly, but not in this way. My hands roamed over her body as she pounded her quivering fists against my chest, stomach and face, but it didn't faze me.

She gave resistance one final shot and reached for my arm pit, fishing her thumb and forefinger at the muscle there, and pinched it between the two fingers. It was a vain attempt.

When I was like this—a monster—nothing could throw me. My skin felt like it matched that of stone and pain only thrilled me further. My clawed fingertips skimmed across her midsection and she shivered, her arms stiff at her sides and her nails biting into her palms. She moaned shakily against my lips as my wings closed around us. My fingers toyed with her hair and she turned her face away, breaking the invading kiss.

" Abaddon... the place of destruction..." She whispered weaky, her eyes darkening to that desolately beautiful obsidian. "Jin, please... I know you can hear me. I..." she swallowed thickly and bowed her head. "God, help me..."

"You are not God's!" They snapped cruelly; then, their tenor softened as my lips made a trail down her neck to her collar bone. "You are ours... all ours..."

"I am empty." she breathed.

As the forlorn words left her pallid lips, I torn her open like a flower of pain. My senses went mad at the primal scent of her naked flesh and I took her lips yet again, my teeth being none too gentle. She had clamped her eyes shut and she'd stopped crying. Her body was limp in my arms, yielding. At that moment, the basic need to have her felt as if it would rip me in two.

The shadows closed in around me and I heard voices— so many voices. They encircled around us and, pretty soon, I could hear nothing but their whispered hisses, deafening. I began to murmur a prayer and I felt their claws rake down my skin. Gracie's eyes, which were now opened and glazed, widened as she absorbed the nasty cuts tearing across my chest.

"You're fighting them..." she said absently. "It doesn't matter anymore."

My hands pinned her wrists above her head as I shoved her onto the bed with my body. She exhaled a pitiful 'oof' and nothing more. I wanted her to fight them. I didn't care if she shattered my jaw as long as they'd stop this... this... My rage bubbled over, eating away the little bit of sanity I had left. The coiling darkness lashed out at me, poisoning me with their dripping claws, and the many voices mocked me as I enjoyed ravaging the poor girl beneath me.

It made me sick... self-loathing and pleasure all in a single dose...

I couldn't even remember how I'd gotten rid of my clothes, but as I thrust into her, the world rippled and spun in a dizzying deliciousness. She bit down on her lip and swallowed hard, anguish screwing up her face.

_Gracie..._ I croaked wretchedly.

Their snarls poured from my mouth and the markings on both our bodies glowed as I continued to plunged into her, faster and harder. I wanted to vomit. The decadence of this foul deed wrapped around me like a heavy, putrid blanket and the air cackled with electricity. Her skin felt so cold compared to mine, though her markings blazed vividly. She didn't even stir. Her face was frozen in torment and her lower lip bled from her biting down on it so hard. I inclined my head and lapped the rich coppery liquid up with earnest.

**_Like that taste?_** They all laughed.

There was nothing I could say. My heart beat dully in my chest and I collapsed against the shadows. They draped their ghostly black arms around me and breathed winter into my soul.

_**So close...**_ they murmured.

Their snarling grew louder and the world spun so fast now that I couldn't even focus on her pallid face. As I reached my climax and spilled into her, .I felt my wings submerge into my back and those cursed horns burrow back under my scalp. My skin cooled and to a dull aching and

"I'm sorry..."

I didn't realize that I'd spoken aloud until Gracie's eyes snapped open and she gazed at me, a series of emotions floating through them. Silence fell over us like heavy, drowning snow. Everything had ceased. All I could hear was my own erratic heartbeat. That's when I noticed the wetness traveling down my cheeks.

I was crying.

_I_ was crying.

"Gracie?" My voice was uneven and weak.

She jerked as if I'd physically slapped her.

I winced. "Gracie..."

She peered up at me, her lips trembling. Tears rimmed her bloodshot eyes, but they never fell. Was she even breathing? Her body had become so still. The ugly sallow hue of her skin gleamed dully in the pale moonlight and her nails dug into my arms. I hadn't even noticed that the death grip she had on them.

"I..." I trailed off and rolled away from her.

She didn't move. I had some difficulty releasing myself from her grasp. Her hands dropped to her sides, not relaxing, and a few tears whispered down into her tangled hair.

"Don't be sorry." She finally murmured, her voice rasping. "I know you, Jin Kazama."

I refrained from whimpering like a lowly coward and buried my face into a pillow. "You didn't deserve this."

She sat up and carefully placed her legs over the edge of the bed. I caught her grimace and the sorrow around my heart coiled tighter, making it hard to breathe.

"Hasn't anyone ever told you that life isn't fair?"

I sat up. "There's has to be a moment of relief at the very least."

She turned and smiled at me, a sad smile that made me hate myself even more. "That moment only comes when you are dead."

I simply stared at her. The molten beauty of her eyes had faded. Now they were nothing but two gilded stars, empty from within, the fire at their core exstinguished. A recognition of some unknown finality lined her face, making her appear far older than she was. It crept along the sharp lines framing her lips and her eyes, cutting into her, poisoning her.

I got unsteadily to my feet, grabbed the bathrobe hanging in the bathroom, and brought it to her. She took it with hesitant fingers and held it for a moment. I watched her, unmoving. She stared at the black silk material, running her fingers over it absently.

"You won't be able to stop it, Jin." She deadpanned.

Before I could reply, she'd slipped the robe on, pulled it tightly around herself, and walked out the door. She shut it quietly behind her, but I would've much rather her have slammed it. Perhaps, I would've been more at ease if she'd screamed at me and clawed my eyes out.

I'd broken her... and there was nothing I could do to change that. My captors inched along the shadows, their contorted sneers destroying me.

They cackled. **_We are nowhere near destroying you yet, boy._**

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**A/N:** Sorry it took so freakin' long (way too long... sorry again) to update. I had such a hard time with this chapter for some reason. It just... wouldn't come to me. Blah... I hatehatehate this chapter... All of it just didn't come out like I wanted it to... I'd love to go back over it, but right now, if I did that, I'd delete the whole story. It's rather frustrating to have OCD. Anyway, I hope you partially enjoyed it and maybe the next update won't take near as long and be way better... If this installment was in any way confusing, let me know. Thanks guys.

_Razer Athane:_ Of course, she is the key! Ha, I'd thought it'd been pretty obvious. ;D Oh, and I got Poser 7. I haven't really fiddled with it yet. I've tried looking up some tutorial videos on youtube, but I can't find any good ones.

_spongecake 2:_ Ha, thanks for the review on my author's note. Sorry it took so long.

_missingthepoint:_ I like Jin/Julia. Jin is a difficult character to match someone with officially, so I like a lot of different characters to be paired with him... just NOT Ling. Oh, and that Bryan/Ling story is "Siberian Snow" by SS-Romanticus. I've read some of it. I like the way the paring is portrayed in the author's writing.


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